m 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 


THE 
DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 


BY 

CLYDE  C.  WESTOVER 

Author  of  "The  Romance  of  Gentle  Will/1  "The 
Scuttlers,"  and  other  stories 


NEW  YORK 

THE  NEALE  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
1912 


^ 


Copyright,  1912,  By 
THE  NEALE  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  CELESTIAL   CUNNING 7 

II  THE  TESTING  OF  LUK  CHAN 23 

III  THE   INCENSE  VENDER 42 

IV  FISH  ALLEY 60 

V  SEN  CHEE'S  BALCONY 78 

VI    A  DRUG  ON  THE  MARKET 96 

VII    LUCERO'S   WARNING 114 

VIII    PERFUME   OF   LILIES 132 

IX    A    RUNNING    FIGHT 149 

X  THE   DRAGON'S   HEAD                                .     .     .     .165 


M125430 


The  Dragon's  Daughter 

CHAPTER  I 

CELESTIAL    CUNNING 

LOUIE  TOY,  musing  in  the  doorway  of  the 
Canton    Bazaar,    was    awakened    from    a 
brocaded  dream  of  Cathay  by  the  sharp  crack  of 
a  revolver  and,  as  his  slanting  eyes  widened,  a 
slight  figure  darted  around  the  corner  of  Clay 
street  and,  after  a  hesitant  glance  at  the  China- 
man,  stumbled  over  his   threshold   and  leaned, 
breathing  brokenly,  against  a  glass  show-case. 
"Madre  Dios,"  he  panted,  "they  will  kill !" 
Louie  Toy  turned,  stood  for  a  moment,  and 
something  stirred  within  him,  something  which 
the  Celestial  could  not  analyze. 

The  figure  was  so  pitiful,  so  diminutive,  so 
broken.  A  Mexican,  scarcely  more  than  a  boy, 
olive-skinned  face  streaked  with  dirt,  eyes,  long- 
lashed  eyes,  rolling  appealingly,  an  almost  Ori- 
ental cast  of  features.  Behind  the  impassive 
countenance  of  the  Chinaman  that  intangible 

7 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

something  mastered  his  brain  and,  as  a  clamor 
of  shouts  and  pattering  footsteps  sounded  on  the 
pavement,  he  called  sharply,  "Fong  Toon!"  and 
the  face  of  another  Mongolian  peered  through  a 
beaded  portiere  at  the  rear  of  the  store. 

"Mujercita  mea!"  sobbed  the  Mexican,  "I 
struck,  and  they  will  kill."  His  fingers  clutched 
the  edge  of  the  case,  his  knees  sagged  under  him, 
and  the  voices  outside  swelled  into  an  angry 
chorus.  A  loud  cry,  distinguishable  above  the 
rest,  decided  Louie  Toy  and  caused  him  to  frown 
menacingly. 

"The  White  Devil,"  he  muttered  in  Chinese. 
"Quick,  Fong  Toon.  Hide  this  Tsai  below  the 
stairs !" 

His  clerk  threw  an  arm  around  the  frightened 
creature's  waist,  half  dragged,  half  carried  him 
past  the  ebony  and  gold  Cashier's  window  and 
into  the  shadow  of  soft  Oriental  hangings,  while 
Louie,  hands  thrust  deep  into  his  capacious 
sleeves,  swung  about  and  leaned  sleepily  against 
the  jamb  of  the  door  as  a  blue-coated  policeman, 
heading  a  crowd  of  tenderloin  toughs  and  carry- 
ing an  automatic  revolver  in  his  hand,  stopped 
at  the  entrance,  with  an  arrogant  query. 

8 


CELESTIAL  CUNNING 

"Hello,  fung  yow,  where  the  hell's  that 
greaser?" 

Louie  Toy  yawned,  wriggled  lazily  as  his  eyes 
widened,  and  smiled  the  vacuous  smile  of  serene 
indifference. 

"What's  malla,  Offici  Mulcahey?  You 
chasem  tief  to-day?" 

"Aw,  cut  it  out,  Louie!"  snapped  the  police- 
man. "Lucero  knifed  his  girl,  and  I  think  I 
winged  him.  He  went  up  that  hill  like  a  scared 
rabbit.  Which  way  did  he  go?" 

Louie  Toy's  interest  seemed  to  awaken. 

"Lilla  Mexican  boy*?"  he  drawled. 

"Yes,  yes !" 

"Don't  know,"  with  a  yawn. 

"Hell,"  snapped  Mulcahey,  "you  saw  him. 
"Which  way?  Come  out  of  your  trance!" 

Louie  blinked.  "Him  lun  up  Dupont,  down 
Saclamento;  you  no  like  stop  dlinkee  tea?" 

But  his  last  words  were  spoken  to  empty  ears, 
for  the  copper,  with  an  oath,  dashed  up  the  block, 
and  Louie  smiled  inscrutably  as  the  last  pair  of 
clattering  heels  vanished  around  the  corner  in  a 
vain  race  down  Sacramento  street  hill. 

"Dog,"  he  muttered,  "white  dog!     He  spoils 
9 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

my  traffic  in  ah-peen-yeen.1  Louie  Toy,  whose 
ancestor  was  the  great  Ho  Mun,  under  the  rule 
of  an  Irish  policeman!" 

The  indolent  look  in  his  eyes  gave  way  to  a 
gleam  of  malevolence  as  he  shuffled  into  his  door- 
way, calling  softly:  "Sen  Chee!  Sen  Chee!!" 

Soft-sandaled  feet  pattered  on  a  little  half- 
balcony  at  the  back  of  the  store,  there  was  a 
swish  of  silken  hangings,  and  a  pretty  Chinese 
miss,  about  eighteen  years  old,  minced  down  the 
stairway  and  met  her  father  with  a  low,  gurgling 
cry  of  pleasure. 

Her  black  hair  was  coiled  on  top  of  her  head 
and  drooped  loosely  about  her  temples,  curling 
above  her  brows,  dressed  unlike  the  usual  oily 
coiffure  of  the  Chinese  woman,  which  is  drawn 
in  unguent  sleekness  straight  back  from  the  ears, 
but  straying  roguishly  after  the  manner  affected 
by  her  American  sisters.  Her  loose-fitting  jacket, 
rose-colored,  and  trousers  of  jade-green,  heavily 
brocaded,  looked  not  at  all  ugly  on  her  lithe 
figure;  and  her  dainty,  embroidered  slippers  were 
so  tiny  that  she  seemed  a  quaint  Oriental  doll, 
doll-shod  and  doll-garbed,  with  a  slight  rose 

1  Opium. 

IO 


CELESTIAL  CUNNING 

tinge  in  olive  cheeks,  brows  pencil-arched  in  a 
thin  black  line,  and  lashes  that  drooped  over 
timid  eyes. 

There  was  a  thrill  of  affection  in  Louie's  voice. 

"My  little  Lily  Flower,  my  Sen  Chee,  were  you 
frightened?  The  White  Pig  matched  his  cun- 
ning against  that  of  Louie  Toy.  He  has  many 
five  tael  tins  of  the  precious  drug  to  his  account. 
He  will  pay.  He  will  pay!"  He  smiled  again 
upon  the  girl.  "But  perhaps  your  father  did 
wrong." 

"Where  is  the  wrong?  From  my  balcony  I 
saw  a  hunted  creature  stumble  through  our  door 
and  you  have  hidden  him  from  an  officer.  Will 
you  give  him  up,  if  they  come  for  him?" 

Louie  Toy  rubbed  his  palms  in  perplexity. 

"He  is  blood-guilty,  Sen  Chee.  He  must  pay 
the  penalty." 

"Why?" 

"It  is  the  rule  of  our  great  society  that  the 
blood  of  an  enemy  is  the  toll  of  blood-guilt. 
These  white  brothers  of  ours  have  laws  that  must 
be  obeyed.  He  has  taken  a  life,  he  must  pay  the 
toll." 

"Then  why  did  you  protect  him,  my  father?" 
ii 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

His   eyelids   drooped.     He   folded   his   arms. 

"I  scarcely  know,  doll-child;  my  heart  made  a 
fool  of  my  brain." 

"Let  us  see  him.  He  may  have  a  different 
story  to  tell." 

Louie  Toy  hesitated,  scowled  at  his  daughter, 
then  walked  to  the  head  of  the  stairway  and 
spoke  a  guttural  command  in  the  Chinese 
tongue. 

A  moment  later  Fong  Toon  appeared,  fol- 
lowed by  another  Oriental,  who  drew  back  in 
alarm  as  the  daylight  struck  his  eyes,  and  glanced 
timorously  about  the  store.  Louie  Toy's  mouth 
opened  in  amazement,  but  his  daughter's  lips 
parted  from  a  different  cause  and  a  peal  of  laugh- 
ter caused  his  frown  to  deepen. 

"Good  old  Fong  Toon,"  she  cried.  "Good  old 
Fong.  See,  my  father,  he  has  dressed  the  boy 
in  the  clothing  of  Wing  Gee.  He  is  only  a  boy. 
Why  he  is  not  a  year  older  than  I,  and  he  looks 
like  one  of  your  clerks.  Why,  even  Fong  has 
parted  with  his  queue,  and  it  would  take  sharp 
eyes  to  pick  this  man  out  from  one  of  our  own 
people." 

"Such    wisdom   is   for   your   elders,"    sneered 

12 


CELESTIAL  CUNNING 

Louie,  disgruntled.  "Dress  him  in  his  own 
clothes,  Fong  Toon,  and  turn  him  into  the  street. 
I  have  spoken."  He  turned  away  and  spat  in 
disdain,  heedless  of  the  Mexican's  imploring  eyes. 

The  boy,  although  he  could  not  understand  a 
word  of  the  Oriental  tongue,  felt  intuitively  the 
undercurrent  that  had  turned  against  him,  and 
his  cheeks  paled. 

Sen  Chee,  watching  him  closely,  pattered  across 
the  floor  and  laid  her  hand  on  her  father's  arm. 

"Wait,"  she  murmured  in  English,  then  turned 
to  the  boy.  "What  has  happened,  did  you  kill; 
tell  me,  did  you  kill*?" 

Tears  sprang  to  his  eyes  and  he  stretched  out 
his  hands.  In  the  soft  light  his  face  looked 
drawn  and  haggard,  and  even  Louie  grunted  in 
grudging  pity.  Again  the  Chinese  maiden  spoke. 
"Trust  us,  we  will  not  harm  you.  Did  you  fight 
and  kill4?" 

"No,  no,  no !  I  did  not  mean  to  keel.  She  was 
— she  was  my,  what  you  call,  my  girl,  and  I  am 
jealous,  oh  so  jealous.  I  did  not  mean  to  keel!" 

He  pressed  his  hand  to  his  eyes  as  if  to  shut 
out  an  evil  vision,  and  the  girl  stepped  forward 
and  stroked  his  head  gently. 

13 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

"Tell  us  your  story.  Do  not  fear.  My  father 
is  your  friend, — I  am  your  friend." 

A  subtle  thrill  of  magnetism  seemed  to  touch 
his  inner  consciousness  and,  with  a  movement  of 
decision,  he  lifted  his  head  and  looked  into  her 
eyes. 

"Why,  why — how  shall  I  say,  Senorita? — no, 
Mees, — Mees! — I  am  knife  thrower  at  the  Hip- 
podrome theater  on  Pacific  street.  My  mucha- 
cha,  my  girl,  my  Carlotta,  she  stand  before  the 
board  and  I  pin  the  knives  around  her,  every 
place,  just  so.  Si!  I  don't  hurt  her,  I  don't 
touch  her,  but  I  pin  her  hair  to  the  planks,  I 
fasten  the  bow  on  her  shoulder  to  the  boards,  I 
make  her  skirt  to  draw  tight  about  her  limbs, 
the  knives  flash  everywhere;  Dios  meo,  I  miss  her 
one  leetle  half  inch,  one-quarter,  but  I  not  hurt 
her.  We  work  at  that  Hippodrome  one  week, 
then  one  big  Americano,  what  you  call  tough,  he 
buys  for  her  the  aguardiente.  I  ask  that  she  not 
go,  but  she  drink  with  him,  and  she  drink  again 
and  she  drink  again;  and  when  we  perform  her 
eye  is  not  steady  and  I  am  afraid — ah,  so  much 
afraid — that  I  miss,  and  I  throw  wild,  and  I  am 
clumsy,  and  the  peoples  laugh  at  me  and  I  hate 


CELESTIAL  CUNNING 

them, — ah  I  hate  them,  I  hate  them,  I  hate  them !" 

He  paused  for  breath  and  Louie  stirred  im- 
patiently, but  Sen  Chee's  warning  clasp  tightened 
on  his  arm. 

"Then  she  take  more  drink  with  that  perro, 
that  beast  of  an  Americano.  She  no  wait  for  me 
to-day,  but  walk  out  of  the  theater  with  heem, 
with  heem, — and  I  follow  them.  They  stop  by 
the  Carnaceria  at  the  bottom  of  Clay  street  and 
I  wait  no  longer.  I  pull  the  knife  from  my  belt 
and  throw  it  at  that  sneering  puerco;  but  she  see 
it  flash  and  swing  her  arm  quick,  jz,  and  the  point 
drive  deep  in  her  bosom.  A — a — ah! — I  know 
only  to  run  when  she  scream;  and  they  try  to  kill 
me  and  then  you  let  me  stay,  and  I  am  safe. 
I  will  go,  I  will  go,  if  you  say;  they  no  catch 
me  now.  I  not  care  anyway,  if  my  Carlotta  is 
dead!" 

He  sank  down  on  the  floor,  a  miserable  heap 
of  dejection  that  could  not  but  appeal  to  even 
the  stolid  Celestial's  bosom. 

Louie  Toy's  impassiveness  slipped  from  him 
like  a  suddenly  discarded  garment  and  the  Oriental 
languor  was  for  once  replaced  by  American  ac- 
tion. 

15 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

"Fong  Toon,"  he  commanded  sharply,  "keep 
this  boy  below  the  stairs.  Let  him  unpack  the 
crates  that  the  China  steamers  bring,  and  give 
him  to  eat  of  our  fare  as  long  as  he  shall  choose 
to  stay." 

He  turned  to  his  daughter. 

"Is  my  Lily  Flower  pleased?  Perhaps  the 
man  is  not  blood-guilty.  I  will  send  a  messenger 
to  Ming  Tai.  Ming  is  in  touch  with  the  police 
devils  and  their  affairs.  He  will  tell  us  what 
we  would  know.  My  daughter,  my  Sen  Chee,  is 
she  pleased?" 

He  found  his  answer  deep  in  the  pupil-pools 
of  her  eyes.  It  was  a  time  for  silence  and,  with 
that  one  look  of  understanding,  she  pattered  away 
and  for  an  hour  or  more  her  attention  was  divided 
between  the  folding  and  replacing  of  a  pile  of 
embroidered  mandarin  coats  in  their  show-case 
and  the  dusting  of  sundry  grotesque  images  of 
bronze  and  ivory  that  graced  her  father's  shelves. 

Her  task  completed,  she  seated  herself  on  an 
ebony  stool  and  leaned  upon  the  glass  show-case, 
staring  pensively  at  a  group  of  strolling  sight- 
seers beyond  the  doors.  Suddenly  her  shoulders 
stiffened,  her  lips  parted,  and  her  cheeks  colored 

16 


CELESTIAL  CUNNING 

prettily.  A  tall  Chinese,  dressed  in  ordinary 
garb,  but  with  hawk-like  nose  and  sharply 
chiseled  features,  stood  at  the  window.  He  made 
no  pretense  of  examining  the  goods  displayed,  but 
looked  at  her  boldly,  and  as  her  lashes  fluttered 
downward  in  confusion,  the  lines  of  his  face  re- 
laxed in  a  quizzical  smile.  Then,  as  if  aware  of 
some  hidden  menace,  he  turned  away  and  shuffled 
aimlessly  down  Dupont  street. 

Sen  Chee  sat  for  a  moment,  breathing  tensely. 
Romance  was  close  at  hand.  She  knew  that  the 
man  belonged  to  an  inimical  tong,  but  for  the 
last  three  weeks  he  had  stared  in  at  her  father's 
window  every  afternoon,  and  once,  as  she  stood 
at  the  door,  he  had  whispered  her  name.  A  subtle 
influence  gripped  her,  her  heart  beat  faster,  and 
she  murmured  a  name,  harsh  to  American  ears 
but  one  that  spelled  sweet  incense  to  her  Oriental 
soul,  "Luk  Chan!" 

Luk  Chan,  a  member  of  the  Bo  Sing  Tong,  her 
father's  enemies. 

Montague  and  Capulet,  reincarnated.  The 
prototypes  of  Shakespeare's  drama  of  a  rose- 
scented  past,  modernized  and  set  in  a  twentieth- 
century  frame,  with  a  scenario  constructed  of  the 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

wiles,  the  intrigues,  the  plots,  and  the  counter- 
plots of  San  Francisco's  Chinatown. 

A  "hop-head"  slunk  around  the  corner  of  Clay 
street  and,  with  furtive  eyes  on  the  alert  for  a 
"cop,"  slipped  into  a  den  in  Waverly  Place.  His 
lips  were  drooling,  his  cheeks  ashen,  his  straggly 
beard  unkempt.  He  must  have  a  "shot"  of  dope, 
or  collapse  on  the  sidewalk. 

A  half -drunken  bum,  in  tattered  overalls,  with 
hat  drawn  low  over  his  eyes,  grunted  as  the  crea- 
ture passed  him,  then,  as  a  harsh  jangle  of  dis- 
cordant sound  broke  on  his  ear,  lurched  to  a 
hydrant  at  the  curb  and  swayed  there  in  sodden 
interest.  A  Chinese  dignitary  had  died,  and  his 
funeral  cortege  was  passing  along  Dupont  street. 
The  driver  of  a  closed  carriage  scattered  devil 
papers  with  one  hand  and  drove  with  the  other; 
four  musicians  made  the  afternoon  hideous  with 
shrieking  flageolets  and  crashing  cymbals.  A  score 
of  male  figures,  clad  in  faded  purple  with  white 
cowls  drawn  over  shaven  polls,  followed  afoot 
and  a  dozen  sad-faced  women  shuffled  after  them. 
Several  hacks,  filled  with  silken-clad  mandarins, 
brought  up  the  rear. 

18 


CELESTIAL  CUNNING 

Officer  Mulcahey  strutted  around  the  corner. 
His  jaw  protruded  as  he  saw  the  reeling  bum, 
but  as  he  peered  more  closely  his  countenance 
changed,  he  drew  his  eyelid  down  in  a  significant 
wink,  and  passed  on. 

A  Chinaman,  who  had  been  studying  the  flam- 
ing black-scrawled  bulletin  upon  a  dead-wall  near 
the  corner,  turned  nonchalantly  and  ambled  out 
upon  the  cobbled  street.  The  vagrant  eyed  him 
sleepily.  As  the  procession  passed  he  bent  for- 
ward, muttered  a  low  word  to  one  of  the  cowled 
figures,  a  wrist  shot  out  from  his  greasy  sleeve  and 
a  tiny  green  slip  changed  hands.  It  was  done  in 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  but  the  bum  swore 
tensely. 

The  Chinese  slipped  away  into  the  crowd  and 
shuffled  off  in  the  direction  of  Waverly  Place. 
The  drunken  man  lurched  after  him  and  clutched 
at  a  telegraph  pole  to  steady  himself  as  another 
green  slip  changed  hands  at  the  doorway  of  Fong 
Wing's  shoe  store.  Down  to  Jackson  street  and 
to  a  clam-depot  in  a  reeking  basement,  where,  by 
a  timely  lurch  past  the  cellar  stairs  the  hulking 
loafer  caught  again  a  glint  of  green.  The  action 
was  repeated  a  half-dozen  times.  A  butcher 

19 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

store,  an  itinerant  cobbler,  a  fruit-stall,  a  drug- 
gist's, a  jewelry  shop,  and  Ming  Tai's  fish  market 
were  all  visited,  and  palm  met  palm  to  inter- 
change a  slip  of  green. 

Once  the  Chinese  twisted  his  head,  and  a  quick 
glance  over  his  shoulder  showed  the  uncouth  fig- 
ure that  swayed  in  drunken  aimlessness  along  the 
walk.  His  eyes  glinted,  but  after  a  hesitant  step 
he  shuffled  on  his  way,  and  presently  ascended  a 
flight  of  stairs  that  led  him  to  a  garret  in  Spof- 
ford  Alley. 

As  he  disappeared  from  view  the  man  that  had 
taken  so  much  interest  in  his  proceedings  seemed 
inclined  to  rest.  He  sank  down  in  a  doorway 
and,  with  head  bent  to  his  knees  and  hands  trail- 
ing drunkenly  on  the  boards,  mumbled  broken 
snatches  of  a  ditty  of  the  dives  and  cursed  the 
slippered  Mongolians  as  they  passed  him  by. 

Officer  Mulcahey,  patrolling  his  beat,  saw  the 
sodden  creature,  and  swore  at  him  in  turn.  He 
drew  his  night-stick  and,  leaning  over,  prodded 
the  man  in  the  ribs,  calling  upon  him  loudly  to 
move  on ;  but  on  the  heels  of  his  words  he  flashed 
a  quick  query,  "What's  doin',  Bray?" 

His  victim  protested  raucously,  but  between 
20 


CELESTIAL  CUNNING 

his  broken  sentences  Mulcahey  got  his  answer: 
"The  Bo  Sings  are  up  to  deviltry.  Fow  Yuen 
has  delivered  a  message  to  at  least  a  dozen 
hatchet-men.  I've  got  'em  all  marked.  There's 
going  to  be  a  tong  war  as  sure  as  hell." 

Mulcahey  jerked  the  "vag"  to  his  feet  and 
guided  his  reeling  footsteps  to  the  corner.  He 
led  him  for  half  a  block  down  Jackson  street, 
man-handling  him  as  they  went,  while  scurry- 
ing Celestials  stopped  to  laugh  at  the  prisoner's 
maudlin  antics  before  they  darted  into  the  door- 
ways of  their  homes. 

Then  he  released  his  arm  and  with  a  vigorous 
kick  propelled  him  down  the  hill. 

"'Twas  nately  done,"  he  mumbled,  as  he 
picked  a  sweet  mandarin  orange  from  its  tray  on 
a  sidewalk  fruit-stand  and  laughed  at  the  grimac- 
ing vender  who  dared  not  protest. 

The  drunken  bum,  otherwise  Detective  Ser- 
geant Bray,  of  the  Harbor  police  station,  covered 
many  more  lengths  of  sidewalk  than  were  neces- 
sary before  he  turned  into  a  doorway  on  Wash- 
ington street,  just  above  Kearney,  and  mounted 
the  stairs  with  a  far  more  elastic  step  than  he 
had  been  practicing  for  the  last  half-hour. 

21 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

He  drew  a  key  from  his  pocket  and  bent  over  in 
the  darkened  hallway  to  fit  it  to  its  latch.  Just 
as  it  turned,  with  a  click,  something  soft  flut- 
tered over  his  face  and  was  drawn  tight  about 
his  mouth  and  nostrils.  He  attempted  to  cry 
out,  but  a  pungent  odor  sickened  him  and  stilled 
his  senses.  Some  sharp  object  was  thrust  against 
the  small  of  his  back,  his  elbows  and  knees  were 
gripped  in  a  viselike  clutch,  and  a  grunt  of  satis- 
faction fell  on  his  ear  as  his  consciousness  left 
him. 

A  moment  afterward  four  Chinese  carried  his 
trussed-up  form  through  a  dingy  corridor  that 
opened  into  a  blind  alley  just  off  Jackson  street. 

One  of  their  number  peered  into  the  outer 
world  for  an  instant,  then  their  burden  was  borne 
through  ten  feet  of  daylight,  whence  they  dived 
into  a  basement  door,  and  after  several  windings 
and  descendings  and  ascendings  of  short  flights  of 
stairs,  the  unconscious  man  was  deposited  in  the 
corner  of  a  room,  reeking  of  opium  fumes,  where 
a  wizened  Chinaman,  with  scanty  gray  hair  streak- 
ing his  dirt-grimed  face,  nodded  sagely  and  whis- 
pered a  word  of  commendation. 

Evidently  the  Bo  Sing  Tong  meant  business. 

22 


CHAPTER  II 

THE    TESTING   OF    LUK   CHAN 

FACING  a  dead-wall  at  the  rear  of  St.  Mary's 
Cathedral  which  travesties  the  barbaric  rites 
of  San  Francisco's  Chinatown  by  standing,  a  mas- 
sive Christian  sentinel,  at  the  very  threshold 
of  heathenism,  practised  openly  and  with  more 
Oriental  deviltry  in  its  circumscribed  western 
limits  than  may  be  known  within  the  Great  Wall 
of  the  Flowery  Kingdom,  a  little  railed  balcony 
hung  for  two  window-lengths  above  a  cemented 
court. 

The  dead-wall  was  the  back  of  a  joss-house,  and 
the  balcony  marked  the  second  story  of  the  domi- 
cile of  Sen  Chee. 

Her  father's  clerks  were  putting  up  shutters; 
curious  sightseers  were  drifting  away  to  the  more 
sensuous  pleasures  of  the  tenderloin  dance-halls 
and  the  allurement  of  the  underworld. 

The  spire  of  St.  Mary's  pointed  its  black  finger 
23 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

at  a  moonlit,  star-flecked  sky,  and  a  silver  glow 
softened  the  shadows  of  the  court. 

Sen  Chee's  window  swung  open  silently  and 
Louie  Toy's  "Lily  Flower"  fluttered  out  upon 
the  balcony.  Fluttered  indeed,  for  the  sleeves 
of  her  kimono  rustled  their  silken  folds  and  as 
she  tossed  her  arms  above  her  head  they  slipped 
downward,  displaying  delicately  moulded  arms, 
and  the  scintillant  gleam  of  a  jewel  flashed  in  the 
jade  circlet  about  her  wrist.  She  clasped  her 
hands  back  of  her  head  and  stood  for  a  moment 
looking  at  the  wall,  as  if  she  could  see  some 
beckoning  image  in  its  dun-colored  depths.  She 
was  alone  with  her  thoughts. 

The  moon  shone  in  her  eyes,  but  they  beheld 
only  Fancy's  image  and  she  dwelt  in  the  Vale 
of  the  Thousand  Years,  the  Chinese  maiden's 
realm  of  love. 

At  last  her  lips  parted  in  a  sigh,  her  arms 
dropped  to  her  side,  and  the  heavy  fragrance  of 
the  Narcissi,  ranged  along  the  railing  in  their 
quaint  majolica  pots,  appealed  to  her  senses. 
She  leaned  over,  brushed  her  face  against  the 
golden  heart  of  a  lily,  then  crushed  its  petals 
against  her  lips  and  broke  its  stem.  Holding  the 

24 


THE  TESTING  OF  LUK  CHAN 

flower,  she  moved  to  the  end  of  the  balcony  and 
seated  herself  in  a  wicker  chair,  just  outside  the 
low-silled  window.  Her  form  was  dimly  out- 
lined against  the  fretwork  of  the  rail,  but  her  robe 
of  blue  blended  with  the  cloud-flecked  moonlight 
and  was  merged  into  invisibility  against  the  dark 
background  of  the  open  window.  Again  the 
sigh  and  a  little  timorous  whisper,  "Luk  Chan," 
and  the  lily  was  held  close  against  her  bosom. 
A  half-hour  passed  and,  lulled  by  the  languor- 
ous spell  of  perfumed  air  and  star-dust  falling 
aslant  the  moonbeams,  her  body  relaxed.  She 
sank  back  in  her  chair;  tired  lashes  drooped  upon 
her  cheeks.  Her  bosom  rose  and  fell  to  the  ca- 
dence of  her  breathing,  and  she  was  slipping  away 
to  the  world  of  dreams  and  love,  when  she  was 
startled  by  a  sharp  thud  inside  the  railing  and 
she  rose  with  a  cry. 

A  long  bamboo  pole  rested  with  its  thickest  end 
upon  her  balcony  and  slanted  to  the  top  of  the 
opposite  wall,  a  dozen  feet  above,  She  turned, 
trembling,  to  her  window,  but  her  step  was  ar- 
rested by  a  warning  "S-sh!"  and  the  low  call- 
ing of  her  name.  The  head  and  shoulders  of  a 
man  were  outlined  upon  the  roof  above,  and, 

25 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

though  her  senses  commanded  flight,  her  heart 
stayed  the  impulse. 

As  she  faltered  there  was  a  swish  of  rustling 
garments,  a  form  slid  down  the  pole,  and,  lips 
parting  in  a  sweet  fear,  she  looked  into  the  de- 
siring eyes  of  Luk  Chan. 

The  eighteen  years  of  her  life  were  as  nothing 
to  the  eternity  of  his  gaze.     He  held  her  fas- 
cinated.    She  knew  that  her  heart  had  passed  into 
the  keeping  of  her  father's  enemy;  and  though  the 
lips  of  Chinese  lovers  do  not  meet,  their  souls 
were  wedded  in  a  kiss  of  mutual  understanding. 
The  silence  made  the  moment  more  impressive. 
A  somber  setting,  one  that  might  not  appeal 
to  the  American  Romeo.     But  Louie  Toy's  daugh- 
ter knew  that  her  future  was  sealed. 
At  last  the  silence  was  broken. 
"Sen  Chee,  I  have  waited  for  seven  nights  upon 
the    roof."     His    tone    denoted   possession;    the 
mastery  of  it  gripped  her. 

She  moved  to  the  rail.     "I,  too,  have  sat  upon 

my  balcony  for  twice  seven  nights  and  more." 

His  eyes  glinted.     "But  I  could  not  come  to 

you.     One    night    your    father    smoked    in    the 

court.     Another,  he  talked  of  business  deals  with 

26 


THE  TESTING  OF  LUK  CHAN 

old  Ming  Tai.  Ming  Tai !  Ming  Tai  is  a  gow.1 
Another,  Fong  Toon  burned  incense  beneath  your 
balcony  till  I  cursed  the  fragrant  joss-sticks,  and 
you  were  gone  before  he  ceased  his  mumblings. 
Something,  always  something,  kept  me  from  you. 
Last  night  I  leaned  over  the  wall  to  call  your 
name,  but  the  foreign  Tsai  that  was  saved  from 
the  Police  Devils  stood  in  the  window  at  your 
back  for  an  hour,  though  you  knew  it  not,  and 
he  dodged  from  sight  when  you  crossed  the  sill." 

"But  you  came,  you  came  at  last!  I  knew 
you  would  come  some  day,  Luk  Chan." 

He  bent  over  her  fiercely. 

"It  was  my  love  calling  to  you,  Sen  Chee.  I 
stood  at  the  window  of  your  father's  store  day 
after  day,  and  though  you  fought  against  your 
heart,  my  eyes  mastered  you.  Sweet  Lily  Flower, 
my  blue  lily  of  Penang,  the  rarest  blossom  of 
Cathay,  tell  me  that  I  will  wear  you  in  my  bosom 
through  the  Vale  of  the  Thousand  Years,  that 
you  will  follow  me  wherever  I  may  go,  that  you 
will  leave  your  home,  your  father,  and  your 
friends,  and  dwell  in  happiness  where  I  will  not 
be  the  despised  Luk  Chan,  member  of  a  warring 

1Dog. 

27 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

tong,  a  hatchet-man,  an  outcast,  but  Tsue  Hei, 
a  lineal  descendant  of  the  great  Chong  Wing,  a 
prince  of  the  royal  dynasty.  You  will  be  my 
princess  and  our  children  will  be  of  the  blood- 
royal." 

A  silence  fell  upon  them,  his  arms  were  folded 
across  his  bosom,  he  devoured  her  with  his  eyes. 

A  light  click  behind  the  girl  caused  her  to 
start  in  alarm,  and  her  lover  thrust  his  hand 
quickly  in  his  blouse. 

She  stepped  to  her  window  and  stared  intently 
beyond  the  casing. 

At  last  she  moved  to  his  side  and  laid  her  hand 
upon  his  shoulder.  He  thrilled  with  the  touch, 
his  arm  slipped  around  her  waist,  and  he  drew 
her  to  him  cruelly. 

"  'Twas  but  the  latch  slipped,"  she  murmured, 
and  relaxed  happily  in  his  embrace. 

"Do  you  love  me,  doll-child!"  he  whispered. 
He  felt  her  soft  breath  upon  his  cheek. 

"My  Luk  Chan !  Does  the  water-lily  love  the 
pebbles  to  which  it  clings?  You  are  my  master. 
Whether  you  are  Tsue  Hei,  a  mandarin  of  royal 
blood  or  a  tong-man,  my  father's  enemy,  it  mat- 
ters not  to  me.  You  will  always  be  Luk  Chan, 

28 


THE  TESTING  OF  LUK  CHAN 

the  lover  of  my  dreams.  Where  you  go,  I  will 
go;  where  you  die,  I  will  die.  I  have  gone  to  the 
American  schools,  I  have  learned  the  language  of 
the  white  people,  but  now  I  remember  but  one 
word  of  all  their  teaching " 

"And  that  word  is " 

"Love!" 

A  hoarse  cry  escaped  him ;  then,  of  a  sudden,  he 
released  her  and  sprang  back  to  the  rail. 

A  door  closed  in  the  chamber  and  soft  footfalls 
were  heard  beyond  the  sill. 

Quick  as  a  flash  she  darted  to  the  rail,  lifted 
the  bamboo  pole,  and  dropped  it  into  the  court 
below. 

He  flashed  a  look  of  doubt  at  her,  but  she  seated 
herself  in  the  chair  by  her  window. 

"Kneel  beside  me,"  she  commanded,  and,  com- 
prehending, he  dropped  to  the  floor  and  crept  be- 
hind her,  huddling  close  against  the  wall  as  she 
spread  out  the  flowing  skirt  of  her  kimono  and 
draped  her  loose  sleeve  over  the  rail. 

A  filmy  cloud  crept  across  the  face  of  the  moon 
as  Louie  Toy  stepped  out  upon  the  balcony,  think- 
ing dreamily  of  the  comfortable  evening  he  was 
about  to  pass  there  in  the  fragrant  air. 

29 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

He  peered  about  him  for  a  moment,  then 
spoke  chidingl y. 

"My  daughter  sits  up  late.  The  air  is  damp. 
It  is  life  for  the  lilies,  but  not  for  my  Lily 
Flower." 

She  laughed.  "My  father  often  sits  till  mid- 
night in  the  court  below.  He  smokes  and  chats 
with  Ming  Tai  long  after  I  have  gone  indoors." 

Louie  scowled.  "You  have  man-wisdom,  Sen 
Chee.  But  I  will  smoke  here  for  a  half-hour  to- 
night." 

He  waved  his  bamboo  pipe. 

"Go  within,  and  let  me  have  your  chair." 

A  slight  movement  at  her  side  caused  her  to 
answer  hurriedly: 

"No,  no,  my  father.  The  smoke  will  come  in 
through  my  window.  The  night  is  too  warm  to 
keep  it  closed.  I  am  tired  and  the  air  soothes 
me."  She  pouted.  "I  have  folded  and  unfolded 
rolls  of  pongees  all  day  long;  I  have  shown  vases 
of  Satsuma  and  Cloisonne  to  your  customers  until 
I  am  sick  of  it  all.  Let  me  be  in  peace  to-night, 
just  to-night,  my  father,  or  instead  of  your  'Lily 
Flower5  I  fear  you  will  call  me  your  eTiger  Lily/ 
for  you  will  find  that  I  have  a  will  of  my  own." 

30 


THE  TESTING  OF  LUK  CHAN 

He  grumbled,  but  she  waved  her  arm  at  him 
in  mockery. 

"My  balcony  is  sacred," — petulantly, — "I  will 
not  have  it  profaned  by  smoke,  save  of  fragrant 
incense.  Why,  my  lilies  will  sicken  and  may  die. 
Even  now  the  horrid  fumes  are  curling  from  your 
pipe-bowl.  Go,  before  I  snatch  it  from  you  and 
throw  it  over  the  rail."  She  made  a  gesture  as  if 
to  arise  and  he  clutched  his  pipe,  grimacing 
amusedly. 

"You  wear  a  strange  mood  to-night,  my  daugh- 
ter." He  chuckled,  then  turned  abruptly  and  van- 
ished through  the  window. 

They  listened,  palpitant,  to  his  shuffling  foot- 
falls, and  when  the  doors  closed  Luk  Chan  rose 
stiffly  and  swayed  against  the  railing,  while 
needle-points  of  pain  darted  through  his  cramped 
limbs. 

His  avenue  of  escape  was  closed;  the  pole  was 
gone.  His  life  might  pay  the  penalty  of  the  in- 
vasion of  Louie  Toy's  home. 

He  looked  questioningly  at  Sen  Chee,  but  found 
no  comfort  in  her  smile. 

She  leaned  toward  him,  pressed  some  soft  ob- 
ject into  his  hand,  and  as  he  stood  there  stupidly, 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

she  slipped  away  from  him,  flitted  through  the 
casement,  and  he  held  the  balcony  alone. 

He  opened  his  fingers  and  stared  at  a  crushed 
Narcissus  in  his  palm.  Its  pungent  odor  assailed 
him.  Its  four  fragrant  petals  spelled  "Hope," 
and,  with  the  flicker  of  a  smile,  he  stowed  it  in 
his  bosom.  The  movement  told  him  that  his 
heart  was  thumping  with  a  kindling  fear. 

It  meant  tragedy  to  stay  until  the  daylight 
came,  yet  he  was  powerless  to  go,  caught  like  a 
rat,  a  plague  rat,  who  would  not  be  given  a  flicker 
of  a  chance  for  life. 

Something  touched  his  side  and  he  sprang  from 
it,  with  a  shuddering  cry  of  fear. 

A  blunt  object  waved  before  his  eyes.  He 
glared  at  it.  It  was  the  end  of  his  bamboo  pole. 
He  peered  over  the  rail  and  in  the  dim  light 
saw  Juan  Lucero,  the  fugitive  Mexican,  garbed  as 
a  Chinese,  stretching  on  tiptoe  as  he  reached  aloft. 

He  raised  the  pole  and  the  boy  slunk  away. 

He  set  it  on  end,  braced  it  firmly  between  the 
two  walls,  and  climbed  its  slanting  length  to  the 
roof  beyond.  Then  he  drew  it  up  after  him,  and 
the  moon  shone  on  the  deserted  balcony  and  its 
nodding  lilies. 


THE  TESTING  OF  LUK  CHAN 

A  narrow  staircase,  with  two  dark  and  twisted 
turns,  led  to  the  second  story  of  a  building  in 
Waverly  place. 

The  night  following  Luk  Chan's  escape  over 
the  joss-house  roof  a  Chinaman  slipped  through 
the  entrance,  shuffled  up  the  stairs,  and  tapped 
on  an  iron  door  that  seemed  strangely  out  of 
place  in  the  ramshackle  structure.  A  wicket 
grated,  two  slant  eyes  surveyed  him  through  the 
slit,  and  he  mumbled  a  significant  phrase  in 
Chinese.  Oiled  bolts  slid  back,  the  door  creaked 
open,  and  he  dived  inside.  The  clang  of  the 
closing  portals  greeted  a  second  Chinaman  mount- 
ing the  stairs. 

A  similar  proceeding  ensued,  and  for  a  half- 
hour  thereafter  flitting  Celestials  appeared  at  regu- 
lar intervals  in  the  hall,  but  none  were  turned 
away,  and  none  arrived  in  company  with  others 
of  their  kind. 

The  scene  beyond  the  doorway  was  strangely 
at  variance  with  its  squalid  approach. 

A  small  anteroom  opened  into  a  great  hall, 
fully  ninety  feet  in  length.  It  was  hung  with 
embroidered  draperies.  Scaly  dragons  fought 
with  hideous  giants,  and  the  figures  of  the  com- 

33 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

batants  were  worked  out  in  threads  of  gold;  som- 
nolent storks  stood  on  one  leg  beneath  gorgeous 
clusters  of  wistaria  etched  on  backgrounds  of 
black  satin. 

Flaming  red  banners,  with  festoons  of  silken 
flowers,  depended  from  the  ceiling.  Ranged 
along  three  walls  were  low  ebony  stools  set  with 
mother-of-pearl.  The  hardwood  floor  was  bare,  but 
its  dun  surface  shone  with  a  ruddy  gloss.  Grim 
figures  in  Chinese  armor,  wielding  battle-axes  of 
a  period  long  gone  by,  stood  at  intervals  between 
the  stools  and  added  a  somber  touch  to  the  set- 
ting. 

There  were  at  least  two  hundred  of  the  seats, 
but  each  one  was  occupied  by  a  taciturn  Chinese. 
Some  were  richly  caparisoned,  but  the  majority 
wore  the  nondescript  garments  of  the  middle-class 
Chinaman,  the  small  shop-keeper,  the  fruit  and 
fish  peddler,  typical  representatives  of  the  motley 
crowd  of  Mongols  that  flit  incessantly  up  and 
down  Dupont  street  during  the  busy  hours  of  each 
working  day. 

At  the  end  of  the  hall,  on  a  raised  platform, 
were  three  heavily  ornamented  chairs,  with  high 
backs,  decorated  with  gold  and  mother-of-pearl. 

34 


THE  TESTING  OF  LUK  CHAN 

In  the  largest  one  was  seated  a  hideous  image, 
at  least  eight  feet  high,  fashioned  of  wood,  gaudily 
painted  and  dressed  in  bright  silken  robes.  In 
the  center  of  its  forehead  was  set  a  huge  staring 
eye,  and  the  scarlet  lips,  drawn  back  in  a  malign 
grin,  displayed  two  short  tusks  projecting  over  the 
chin. 

On  a  stand  in  front  of  its  knees  stood  a  brazen 
censer,  from  which  sticks  of  incense  emitted  fra- 
grant smoke  and  dropped  their  ashes  into  its  bowl. 
Solemnity  pervaded  the  place. 

The  muttering  voices  were  stilled  as  a  hang- 
ing beyond  the  chairs  was  drawn  aside  and  a  tall 
Chinese,  with  a  straggling  beard,  and  clothed  in 
a  heavily  brocaded  purple  robe,  strode  into  the 
room. 

It  was  Tom  Chong,  high  chief  of  the  Bo  Sing 
Society,  and  the  members  of  the  tong  rose  to 
their  feet  and  stood  in  reverent  silence  as  he 
passed  before  the  image  and  kowtowed  in  defer- 
ence before  he  seated  himself  at  the  god's  right 
hand. 

He  was  followed  by  a  wizened  creature  in  ill 
fitting  garb  of  faded  gray  silk,  who  bobbed  to  the 
idol,  then  slipped  into  the  chair  at  its  left,  seem- 

35 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

ingly  making  an  effort  to  efface  himself  in  its 
depths. 

Tom  Chong  lifted  an  ebony  block  and  gave  a 
single  tap  upon  the  stand.  His  auditors  seated 
themselves  as  one  man,  and  he  rose  majestically. 

"Men  of  the  Bo  Sing  Tong,"  he  began,  "we 
have  been  at  peace  for  two  blossomings  of  the 
Sacred  Lily.  The  great  Joss  has  smiled  upon 
us,  but  now  his  brow  is  wrinkled  in  a  frown. 
Prosperity  has  blessed  us,  our  rule  has  been  all- 
powerful,  but  there  has  come  a  rift  in  the  truce. 
You  have  answered  the  call  of  the  Green  Dragon, 
and  the  Dragon  spells  blood.  The  penalty  of  dis- 
obedience to  our  command  is  death  and  we  are 
disciples  of  Hei  De.  We  are  powerless  when  he 
exerts  his  will." 

He  paused  and  turned  to  the  figure  in  the 
farther  chair. 

"Ming  Tai,  priest  of  the  Green  Dragon,  what 
business  calls  our  tong-men  here  to-night?" 

Ming  Tai  slipped  from  the  edge  of  his  seat 
and  puckered  his  face  in  a  sinister  smile, — Ming 
Tai,  fish  dealer  in  the  day;  moving  spirit  of  a 
powerful  tong  at  its  midnight  meetings;  pro- 
fessed friend  of  Louie  Toy,  a  member  even  of  the 

36 


THE  TESTING  OF  LUK  CHAN 

same  tong,  though  none  but  Tom  Chong  knew 
that  he  had  dared  to  take  the  oath  of  an  inimical 
society  that  he  might  spy  out  its  secret  plans; 
treacherous  as  a  snake;  evil  as  a  toad;  with  as 
many  coats  as  a  chameleon. 

"Chosen  of  the  gods,  your  rule  has  been  de- 
fied," he  muttered,  in  a  cracked  voice,  but  the 
stillness  was  so  intense  that  he  could  be  heard  to 
the  extreme  end  of  the  hall.  "Just  tribute  has 
been  demanded,  and  it  has  been  refused." 

"Who  dares  to  set  his  will  against  the  man- 
dates of  Bo  Sing4? 

"Louie  Toy,"  crisped  the  voice  of  Ming  Tai; 
and  one  Chinese  in  the  gathering  started  per- 
ceptibly, then  settled  back  in  affected  nonchalance 
against  the  wall. 

The  little  Celestial's  eye  caught  the  movement 
and  his  lips  set  grimly. 

The  man  who  started  was  Luk  Chan. 

"Our  agent  demanded  three  thousand  taels  as 
the  price  of  everlasting  protection.  Three  thou- 
sand taels  is  a  small  sum  to  one  so  wealthy  as 
Louie  Toy;  but  he  has  ever  been  a  miser  save 
in  the  affairs  of  his  girl -child,  Sen  Chee."  Again 
he  flashed  a  glance  at  Luk  Chan.  "According  to 

37 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

the  rule  of  our  society  the  sum  was  thrice  de- 
manded and  each  time  was  refused.  At  the  last 
he  spat  upon  our  gods  and  consigned  them  to  the 
chambers  of  eternal  torture.  He  laughed  at  our 
threats  and  declared  that  the  peace  would  never 
be  broken, — that  the  Police  Devils  would  protect 
him  and  that  we  were  pallid  gows,  who  would  be 
compelled  to  lick  his  hand." 

An  angry  buzz  rose  in  the  hall,  but  the  high 
chief  stilled  it  with  a  commanding  gesture. 

"My  brothers,"  he  said,  "Ming  Tai  speaks  with 
a  straight  tongue.  We  dwell  together  in  love, 
but  we  rule  through  fear.  He  who  defies  us 
must  die  or  our  organization  and  its  purposes  will 
fail.  We  live  in  prosperity  through  the  tributes 
of  the  rich,  but  each  one  of  us  is  sworn  to  carry 
death  in  his  hand  when  he  is  called." 

He  looked  at  the  hatchet-men  in  silence  for  a 
full  minute  and  some  of  them  moved  uneasily. 
Indeed,  they  nearly  all  did. 

"There  is  but  one  chance  for  life  when  our  will 
is  thwarted.  The  sentence  of  doom  is  beyond  the 
power  of  human  hands.  Louie  Toy's  fate  rests 
with  our  God,  Hei  De." 

He  turned  to  the  priest. 

38 


THE  TESTING  OF  LUK  CHAN 

"Ming  Tai,  repeat  our  invocation,  and  we 
will  abide  by  the  sign." 

His  ally  shuffled  to  the  idol's  feet  and  crouched 
before  it,  resting  his  head  upon  its  wooden  knees 
and  clasping  its  ankles  as  he  mumbled  an  in- 
terminable chant,  while  the  assemblage  gazed 
fascinated  at  the  spectacle. 

Of  a  sudden  a  suppressed  murmur  broke  the 
silence,  and  the  tong-men  stood  in  awe. 

The  lid  of  the  image's  staring  eye  drooped 
slowly  until  it  was  entirely  closed,  and,  though 
Ming  Tai  rambled  on  for  five  minutes  or  more, 
it  masked  the  glass  orb,  and  the  fanatical  Chinese 
sat  spellbound. 

At  last  the  high  priest  ceased  his  mutterings 
and,  as  he  crept  exhausted  to  his  chair,  Hei  De's 
eyelid  raised  with  startling  rapidity. 

Tom  Chong  lifted  his  hand. 

"You  have  witnessed  the  token.  Louie  Toy 
must  die.  Let  the  lots  be  drawn." 

Ming  Tai  recovered  his  poise  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye  and,  leaving  the  platform,  lifted  a 
brazen  urn  from  its  stand  and  shuffled  down  the 
line  of  Celestials. 

Each  man,  as  he  halted  before  him,  thrust  a 
39 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

hand  beneath  his  blouse  and  drew  forth  a  tiny 
green  slip,  depositing  it  in  the  urn. 

A  slip  was  collected  from  all  in  the  room  save 
two,  Tom  Chong  and  a  young  Chinaman,  the  last 
member  to  join  the  tong. 

The  new  member  followed  Ming  Tai  to  the 
altar  and,  after  a  cover  had  been  placed  on  the 
urn  and  it  had  been  shaken  vigorously,  a  silken 
scarf  was  bound  across  his  eyes. 

When  the  lid  was  lifted  Ming  Tai  clutched  his 
arm  and  held  it  over  the  fateful  receptacle. 

He  stood  hesitant  for  a  moment,  then  thrust 
his  hand  quickly  into  the  depths  and  drew  forth 
a  single  green  slip. 

The  high  chief,  Tom  Chong,  took  it  from  his 
fingers. 

In  tense  silence  his  dupes  watched  his  lips. 

"Luk  Chan !"  he  said  at  length,  and  cast  the 
slip  back  into  the  urn. 

Quietly  the  lover  of  Sen  Chee  rose  and  took  his 
station  before  the  joss,  where  the  blood-oath  was 
administered, — the  oath  that  compelled  him  to 
slay  her  father  within  the  fortnight,  or  to  meet 
death  himself  at  the  hands  of  his  tong. 

Though  something  deep  within  his  bosom  cried 
40 


THE  TESTING  OF  LUK  CHAN 

out  against  the  hideousness  of  it  all,  though  it 
hurt  him  so  cruelly  that  he  could  scarcely  breathe, 
he  repeated  the  oath  with  a  stoic's  tongue;  and 
Ming  Tai,  staring  cynically  in  ill  concealed  dis- 
like, saw  nothing  to  find  fault  with. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  INCENSE  VENDER 

MING  TAI  laid  down  the  knife  with  which 
he  had  been  cleaning  sand-dabs,  wiped  his 
hands  on  a  gunny-sack,  and  pulled  on  a  blouse 
over  his  odorous  jersey. 

He  muttered  something  in  Chinese  to  his  as- 
sistant, tucked  a  brown  paper  parcel  under  his 
arm  and  left  his  fish-stall,  going  down  Clay  street 
to  the  plaza.  He  took  a  diagonal  cut  across  the 
park,  turned  up  Jackson  street,  and  dived  into  a 
little  alley,  scarcely  a  dozen  feet  wide,  between 
tall  buildings. 

The  cul-de-sac  was  deserted,  and  he  scuttled 
down  some  stairs  into  a  basement  entrance.  He 
knocked  loudly  at  two  or  three  different 
doors  in  a  twisting  hallway,  waiting  for 
an  instant  at  each  and  smiling  as  his 
summons  brought  no  response.  At  last  he 
stopped  at  a  door  near  the  end  and  tapped 
upon  the  panel.  He  rapped  a  second  time,  call- 

42 


THE  INCENSE  VENDER 

ing  in  Chinese,  then  he  rattled  the  knob  and 
walked  in.  Throwing  his  bundle  on  a  table  in  a 
corner,  he  turned  to  go,  when  his  steps  were  ar- 
rested by  a  sort  of  sobbing  sound,  like  the  moan 
of  some  animal  in  distress. 

A  guttural  exclamation  evidenced  his  surprise 
and  he  faced  about,  peering  into  the  gloom. 

Ming  Tai  was  an  actor ;  his  visit  had  been  care- 
fully planned.  His  summons  at  the  various 
doors,  the  package  of  fish,  and  its  delivery  were 
simply  ruses  used  to  produce  the  effect  of  an  in- 
nocent approach. 

He  took  a  match  from  his  blouse  and  lighted  a 
gas-jet,  whose  flare  showed  him  an  inert  form  ly- 
ing face  downward  against  the  wall.  He 
stooped,  rolled  the  figure  over  on  its  back,  and 
looked  into  the  purpled  face  of  the  detective. 

"Sargen'  Blay!"  he  exclaimed,  then  drew  a 
knife  from  his  girdle  and  cut  the  rope  that  bound 
the  officer's  arms  and  ankles  and  tore  a  bandage 
from  his  lips  and  eyes. 

The  prisoner  groaned,  but  was  beyond  the 
power  of  motion. 

Ming  Tai  dropped  to  his  knees  and  began  to 
rub  the  cord-marked  wrists  vigorously. 

43 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

"Wha's  malla,  Sargen'?"  he  said.  "You  try 
catchem  tief ;  tief  he  plenty  catchem  you?' 

"Thief  be  damned!"  growled  Bray.  "This  is 
tong  business.  What  are  you  doing  here?"  sus- 
piciously. 

Ming  Tai's  answer  was  childlike. 

"Oh,  this  my  pidgin.  Me  catchem  orders  for 
flatfish,  for  sole,  for  flounder;  you  savey.  Me 
bling  'em  here  to  Hip  Lung.  You  know  Hip 
Lung?" 

"No!" 

The  Chinaman  cackled.  "Hip  Lung  he  smoke 
um  hop.  Him  no  go  out.  Me  bling  em  fish  twice 
one  week." 

"Well,  he's  gone  out  to-day." 

"Yes.  Mebbe  him  collect  lent.  Him  land- 
lord. This  him  tenement." 

Bray  rose  to  a  sitting  posture  dizzily. 

"Well,  I'm  damned  glad  you  happened  along. 
What  do  you  know  about  this  business?  What 
tong  does  Hip  Lung  belong  to?" 

The  Chinaman  bent  double,  cackling  in  mirth. 
Npt  often  was  he  so  amused. 

"Hip  Lung  him  not  hatchet-man.  Him  poor. 
Spend  all  him  money  for  ah-peen-yeen.  He 

44 


THE  INCENSE  VENDER 

smokem  dope.  P'leeceman  he  no  catch.  Hip 
Lung  too  fly." 

The  detective  sergeant  glared  his  disgust.  He 
knew  that  there  was  not  a  possible  chance  to  fasten 
the  guilt  of  his  imprisonment  on  one  of  these 
wretched  creatures.  They  would  swear  to  any- 
thing in  court;  their  plans  had  been  craftily  laid, 
and  he  had  not  set  eyes  on  one  of  his  captors. 
Ming  Tai's  visit  was  an  innocent  one.  He  was 
helpless.  Evidently  their  schemes  had  been  put 
through  and  he  was  no  longer  a  menace.  Hence 
his  release. 

He  determined  to  temporize.  He  did  not 
known  Ming  Tai  to  be  a  highbinder;  he  had  al- 
ways played  up  to  the  police  and  had,  at  times, 
placed  him  on  the  scent  of  an  important  capture. 

He  was  really  in  the  Mongol's  debt,  more  so 
through  his  present  action.  But  some  deviltry 
was  afoot  among  the  tongs;  he  would  learn  what 
he  could. 

"Good  old  Ming,"  he  said,  "you're  a  pretty 
white  Chink.  I  won't  forget  this.  Mebbe  I  can 
get  you  out  of  a  scrape  sometime." 

Ming  grinned  blandly. 

"What's  going  on  in  Waverly  Place?  Come, 
45 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

through  with  it  now!     You  know  something's 
up." 

The  old  fish  dealer  raised  his  palms  in  pro- 
test. 

"Him  not  my  pidgin,  Sargen'  Blay.  Me  no 
catchem  what  you  mean." 

The  detective  bluffed.  "Oh,  yes  you  do.  I 
spotted  a  highbinder  yesterday  peddling  green 
slips.  That's  a  blood  call,  Ming." 

His  auditor  chattered  in  alarm. 

"No,  no,  you  makee  mistlake!  Who  you  see 
catchem?" 

Bray  scratched  his  head.  "Well,  I  didn't  rec- 
ognize any  of  the  Chinks.  But  there  was  a  lot 
of  tickets  handed  out.  Wait!  By  God,  there 
was  one  highbinder  that  I  spotted!  Luk  Chan 
got  a  green  ticket.  You  know  Luk  Chan?" 

The  detective  was  on  his  feet  by  this  time, 
stamping  his  swollen  limbs  and  cursing  his  van- 
ished captors. 

Ming  lied  blithely.  "Oh,  yes,  me  know  Luk 
Chan.  Luk  Chan  belong  Hop  Sing  Tong." 
Purposely  he  accredited  membership  in  Louie 
Toy's  society  to  the  man  he  hated,  and  drew  sus- 
picion from  his  brothers  of  the  Bo  Sings. 


THE  INCENSE  VENDER 

Bray  pounded  the  table.  "I  knew  something 
was  doing.  I'll  post  the  chief  and  we'll  have  a 
squad  of  policemen  detailed  to  watch  the  Hop 
Sings." 

Ming  Tai's  face  wrinkled.  He  wanted  to 
laugh  aloud,  but  he  masked  his  feelings.  "Sar- 
gen'  Blay  heap  good  flen'.  He  protect  poor  old 
Ming  from  highbinders.  Ming  he  not  forget. 
He  watchem  China  boy.  He  tell  him  all  about 
Luk  Chan!" 

"All  right;  you  won't  lose  by  it.  Let's  get 
out  of  here.  The  smell  of  the  hop  's  got  my 
goat." 

Ming  led  the  way  and  they  stumbled  along  the 
narrow  hall.  When  they  came  to  the  stairway 
he  stepped  aside. 

"You  go  first,  Sargen'.  Me  no  likee  they  see 
us  same  pidgin." 

Bray  growled  an  assent,  mounted  the  stairs  and, 
leaving  the  alley,  turned  down  Jackson  street 
toward  Kearney. 

An  ancient  incense-vender,  with  a  tray  strapped 
about  his  neck,  brushed  by  him,  but  he  gave  no 
heed. 

Ming  Tai  slipped  from  the  shadow  of  the 
47 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

buildings  and  shuffled  up  the  hill.  The  vender 
halted  by  a  lamp-post  and  muttered  an  impreca- 
tion in  Chinese  as  the  fish  peddler  rounded  the 
corner  and  turned  into  Dupont. 

The  vender  of  incense  would  have  been  a  tall 
man  of  his  race  had  he  not  been  so  stooped  with 
age.  His  body,  bent  almost  double  over  his  tray, 
was  clad  in  rags;  bare  toes  peeped  through  his 
sandals ;  and  his  scant  trousers  flapped  about  naked 
ankles.  His  blouse  was  gathered  over  a  dirt- 
grimed  bosom,  his  neck  was  streaked  and 
scrawny;  thin  wisps  of  gray  hair  straggled  from 
under  the  rim  of  a  slouch  hat,  much  too  large  for 
him,  that  was  pulled  down  low  on  his  head,  con- 
cealing his  queue  and  shading  his  eyes ;  his  cheeks 
were  ashen  where  they  showed  through  the  deeper 
stains  of  dirt,  and  his  hands  were  of  a  hue  be- 
yond description. 

His  tray  was  laden  with  papered  packets,  and 
a  half-dozen  tiny  storks,  of  green  metal,  standing 
long-legged  on  lily-pads,  were  arranged  along  the 
front.  In  the  bill  of  each  was  stuck  a  stick  of 
incense,  from  which  fragrant  smoke  arose  as  the 
ashes  crumbled  and  glowed. 

It  was  after  sunset  when  Ming  Tai  disappeared 
48 


THE  INCENSE  VENDER 

around  the  corner  and  the  shadows  were  lengthen- 
ing. The  ancient  vender  leaned  against  his  post 
for  a  time,  his  eyes  closed,  his  gaunt  figure  sway- 
ing. Apparently  some  lotus  dream  of  a  happier 
past  took  his  thoughts  from  present  misery,  for 
he  smiled  and  mumbled  to  himself.  At  last  he 
straightened  a  trifle  and  crept  painfully  up  the 
hill,  hurrying  Chinamen  scarce  condescending  to 
keep  out  of  his  way  and  paying  no  heed  to  the 
querulous  voice  in  which  he  cried  his  wares. 

He  turned  into  Dupont  and  headed  southward, 
toward  old  St.  Mary's.  After  fifteen  minutes  of 
painful  progress,  during  which  he  entered  one  or 
two  stores,  he  stopped  before  the  Canton  Bazaar. 
This  had  been  his  destination  all  along. 

He  blinked  at  the  windows  for  a  time,  then 
pressed  the  latch  and  shuffled  inside. 

Louie  Toy  was  displaying  mandarin  coats  to 
some  American  tourists  when  the  grating  voice 
fell  on  his  ear,  and  looking  up,  he  spied  the  ped- 
dler. His  persuasive  smile  changed  to  a  frown 
and  he  spoke  sharply  to  Fong  Toon,  who  hurried 
forward  from  the  rear  of  the  store  and  angrily 
ordered  the  old  man  out.  His  step  was  so  slow 
that  Fong  Toon  laid  a  hand  on  his  shoulder  to 

49 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

accelerate  his  progress,  when  the  motion  was  ar- 
rested by  a  low  spoken  word  "dh~peen-yeen" 

The  clerk  hesitated,  then  jabbered  something  in 
Chinese,  and  got  a  quavering  answer. 

He  muttered  a  quick  sentence  to  Louie  Toy, 
and  the  merchant  dropped  the  garment  he  was 
holding  so  quickly  that  his  prospective  customers 
stared  in  astonishment.  His  answer  came  back 
quick  as  a  flash;  then  he  recovered  his  poise  as 
Fong  Toon  turned  away. 

The  incense-vender  crept  along  the  show-cases, 
peering  at  the  goods  and  shaking  his  head  as  he 
droned  some  queer  jargon. 

Louie  Toy's  daughter,  seated  at  the  end  of  the 
store  behind  a  high  counter,  watched  him  with 
disgust  as  he  sidled  in  her  direction. 

However,  her  Oriental  stoicism  caused  her  to 
sit  still  as  he  paused  in  front  of  her  and  the 
incense  wafted  its  soothing  scent  to  her  nostrils. 

He  mumbled  brokenly  and  nodded  over  the 
counter,  then,  suddenly,  he  raised  his  head,  looked 
straight  at  her  and  whispered  two  words,  "Sen 
Chee." 

She  could  hardly  suppress  a  cry,  for  the  eyes 
that  she  looked  into  were  not  the  eyes  of  age,  but 

50 


THE  INCENSE  VENDER 

wide  open,  full-pupiled  orbs,  burning  with  the 
fire  of  youth. 

"Luk  Chan!"  The  phrase  trembled  on  her 
lips,  but  a  sibilant  "S-sh!"  stilled  it,  and  she 
shivered  at  his  boldness.  An  intangible  fear 
crept  upon  her.  Intuition  warned  her  that  this 
visit  meant  danger.  Why,  she  could  not  tell. 
There  were  easier  ways  to  communicate  with  her 
than  by  the  assumption  of  this  elaborate  disguise. 
And  she  felt  that  his  mission  was  a  dangerous  one. 

He  tottered  away  and  she  watched  him,  fas- 
cinated, until  Louie  Toy's  customers  were  gone. 

The  merchant  could  hardly  conceal  his  impa- 
tience, and  as  soon  as  he  had  bowed  them  through 
the  door  he  closed  it  with  a  bang  and  hurried  to 
the  vender's  side,  questioning  him  in  his  mother 
tongue. 

The  old  man  looked  about  him  shrewdly,  then 
suddenly  lifted  a  shallow  tray  that  covered  the 
false  bottom  of  the  larger  one,  and  Louie's  eyes 
widened.  A  broad  smile  spread  over  his  counte- 
nance. 

"  Ah-peen-y  een"  he  muttered.  Before  the 
vender  dropped  the  tray  into  place  he  had  seen 
at  least  a  score  of  five-tael  boxes  of  opium  nestling 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

cozily  in  their  hiding-place.  Twenty  five-tael 
boxes  of  the  precious  drug.  These  little  oblong 
boxes  were  the  vision  that  filled  his  brain  during 
his  waking  hours  and  most  of  his  sleeping  ones. 

Little  boxes,  about  four  inches  long  by  three 
inches  wide  and  an  inch  and  a  quarter  thick,  pasted 
over  with  a  dull  red  paper  covered  with  Oriental 
characters.  Each  tin  contained  six  and  two- 
thirds  ounces  of  prepared  opium,  the  importation 
of  which  has  been  prohibited  for  over  a  year,  save 
for  medicinal  purposes,  and  the  prohibition  is  ab- 
solute under  any  circumstance  as  far  as  the 
Chinese  merchants  are  concerned.  The  value  of 
the  drug  in  the  old  man's  tray  was,  under  present 
conditions,  close  to  two  hundred  dollars,  and 
Louie  Toy  knew  that  he  must  be  the  agent  of  some 
lawbreaker  that  had  a  large  cache  safely  stowed. 

Louie  Toy  would  purchase  all  that  they  might 
bring  him.  He  had  a  ready  market  for  it  at  an 
enormous  profit,  so  he  clutched  the  decrepit  crea- 
ture's arm  almost  fondly  and  guided  him  down 
the  stairs  that  they  might  discuss  details  of  the 
deal  in  regions  below  the  Police  Devils'  vision. 

Fong  Toon  remained  on  guard  in  the  store  and 
gave  evasive  answers  to  Sen  Chee's  queries. 

52 


THE  INCENSE  VENDER 

The  girl  feared  for  her  father  and  for  her 
lover.  Some  slip  of  the  tongue  might  betray  Luk 
Chan  and  she  knew  what  that  would  mean.  He 
would  never  leave  the  store  alive. 

There  was  open  enmity  between  the  hatchet- 
man  and  Louie  Toy. 

Surely  the  visit  was  portentous  of  evil. 

After  an  interminable  time  the  oddly  variant 
pair  appeared  above  the  stairs,  and  Louie's  eyes 
held  a  gleam  of  satisfaction. 

He  spoke  tersely  to  Fong  Toon,  telling  him  to 
close  the  store  early  and  that  he  would  be  away 
for  an  hour  at  least.  A  sense  of  danger  warned 
Sen  Chee  to  protest,  but  the  habit  of  ages  and 
knowledge  of  her  father's  moods  kept  her  quiet. 

The  incense-vender  seemed  to  grow  taller  as 
they  passed  out  onto  the  sidewalk  and  his  feeble- 
ness fell  away  from  him.  Louie  Toy  noticed  no 
change;  his  mind  was  occupied  with  thoughts  of 
a  pungent  narcotic  at  the  other  end  of  their  jour- 
ney. 

They  passed  down  Dupont  street  to  Clay,  and 
waited  in  the  shelter  of  an  awning  for  the  south- 
bound car. 

Luk  Chan's  hands  trembled,  his  fingers  worked 
53 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

convulsively  in  his  sleeves7  depths,  but  murder 
must  wait  on  business.  There  would  be  time 
enough  for  the  fulfilment  of  his  vow  after  Louie 
had  been  shown  his  wares. 

They  boarded  the  car  and  changed  at  Kearney, 
crossing  the  lower  portion  of  the  city  and  leaving 
it  at  the  Third  and  Townsend  Street  Sheds. 

They  stumbled  along  the  tracks,  dodging  in 
and  out  amongst  "dead"  freight-cars  for  a  quarter 
of  a  mile,  emerging  at  last  on  a  deserted  street  op- 
posite Pier  42,  where  the  Korea's  giant  bulk 
loomed  darkly  in  the  starlight. 

A  light  showed,  bobbing  in  the  bay,  and,  as 
they  neared  the  steamer,  forms  of  customs  in- 
spectors might  be  seen  pacing  the  decks,  close  to 
the  rail. 

"You  tell  me  six  hundred  nve-tael  tins  were 
brought  ashore  from  the  Korea,  and  the  white 
searchers  were  baffled?  It  is  hard  to  believe," 
whispered  Louie  Toy.  "Why,  they  know  all  the 
hiding-places ;  they  prod  with  their  long  rods,  they 
even  hunt  amongst  the  coal.  Three  great  ships 
have  come  from  China  within  the  month,  and  from 
no  one  of  these  has  a  single  box  escaped  their 
eyes.  Have  the  inspectors  been  bribed?" 

54 


THE  INCENSE  VENDER 

% 

The    vender    grinned    in    a    knowing    way. 

"No;  they  were  outwitted.  Two  cabin  stew- 
ards share  our  profits.  A  pig's  bladder,  holding 
four  tins  of  ah-peen-yeen  packed  in  soft  cotton- 
wool, was  placed  in  each  of  fifty  pillows  used  in 
the  sleeping  berths.  The  White  Devils  slept 
soundly  and  perhaps  dreamed  of  poppies.  When 
the  ship  tied  up  to  her  dock  the  stewards  sent 
their  pillows  ashore  to  be  cleaned,  and  Pon  Him, 
my  master,  cleaned  them." 

Louie  chuckled.  "Pon  Him  cleaned  them  well. 
But  the  balanced" 

"It  was  hidden  beneath  the  cabin  stairs. 
Four  hundred  tins  of  it.  Each  stair  is  covered 
with  a  brass  plate,  fastened  with  rows  of  tiny 
screws.  They  little  know  how  our  friends 
worked  for  three  long  nights  with  those  brazen 
plates.  You  shall  see  how  they  are  delivering  the 
drug." 

The  bay-shore  has  been  filled  in  for  its  entire 
dockage  length,  and  the  approaches  to  the  piers 
consist  of  rough  planking,  under  which  the  tide- 
water laps  the  sand  and  rocks  that  have  been 
dumped  into  the  ooze. 

The  old  vender  led  his  companion  a  few  steps 
55 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

along  the  boards,  then  squatted  down,  felt  about 
with  his  fingers,  and  turned  a  loose  plank  on  edge. 
Through  an  opening  wide  enough  to  admit  a  man's 
body  a  noisome  odor  greeted  them.  He  whistled 
twice  and,  presently,  a  light  flickered  below  them, 
a  guttural  challenge  was  satisfactorily  answered, 
and  before  he  could  realize  it  Louie  Toy  was  be- 
ing lowered  below  the  wharf.  The  lantern  was 
extinguished,  and  a  hand  on  either  side  guided 
him. 

He  stumbled  along  a  hundred  yards  in  the  dark- 
ness and  halted,  at  a  low  command. 

A  hood  was  whisked  from  another  lantern  hang- 
ing to  an  upright  and  he  found  himself  in  a  sort 
of  hollowed  out  den,  from  which  a  little  tunnel 
led  toward  the  bay. 

A  Chinaman  began  to  pile  loose  tins  of  opium 
on  a  blanket,  and  the  incense- vender  pointed  at 
two  gleaming  wires,  of  scarcely  the  thickness  of 
a  thread,  that  were  fastened  to  the  post.  As  he 
looked  something  whirred  along  the  strand. 
Waiting  hands  clutched  a  tiny  basket  containing 
six  tins  of  ah-peen-yeen. 

"An  open  port  in  the  Korea's  bow  and  two 
good  friends  inside,"  whispered  the  vender. 

56 


THE  INCENSE  VENDER 

Louie  Toy  nodded.  He  was  thoroughly  inter- 
ested. 

"A  dozen  basket-loads  and  it  will  be  the  end. 
Is  Louie  Toy  satisfied  with  what  he  has  seen?" 

A  vigorous  affirmative. 

"I  will  buy  the  ah-peen-yeen  as  long  as  you 
will  deliver  it  to  me!" 

They  waited  in  silence  until  the  final  voyage 
of  the  basket;  then,  at  a  signal,  the  wire  was  loos- 
ened at  the  other  end,  drawn  in  and  coiled,  and 
the  mouth  of  the  tunnel  closed  with  large  rocks 
and  loose  earth. 

A  half -hour  was  spent  in  dickering.  Louie,  al- 
though he  had  brought  the  gold  with  him,  refused 
at  first  to  pay  their  price,  for  fear  of  treachery. 
But  full  payment  in  advance  was  demanded,  and, 
fearful  that  they  would  sell  to  another,  he  at  last 
handed  over  a  clinking  bag  that  had  been  clutched 
beneath  his  blouse  for  the  last  hour,  and  had  to 
put  his  faith  in  the  word  of  the  incense-vender, 
whose  name  even  was  unknown  to  him. 

"Deliver  the  tins  to  Ming  Tai's  stall  at  noon," 
he  directed.  "Two  coolies  with  fish  baskets 
swinging  from  their  poles,  will  fool  the  Police 
Devils,  and  Ming  Tai  will  buy  their  catch." 

57 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

The  Chinaman  nodded  and  he  rose.  His 
guide,  decrepit  once  again,  grasped  his  wrist  and 
they  groped  their  way  back  over  the  uneven  path. 
Water  lapped  their  sandals,  and  Louie  shivered. 

For  an  unaccountable  reason  panic  seized  him, 
and  jerking  his  arm  away  from  the  restraining 
clutch,  he  ran  toward  the  patch  of  light  that 
showed  ahead.  Just  as  he  reached  the  opening 
his  foot  struck  a  rock  and  he  fell  flat  on  his  face 
in  the  sand. 

With  an  oath,  Luk  Chan,  the  tong-man,  leaped 
after  him.  The  hour  had  come. 

Louie  Toy  lay  prostrate,  the  breath  driven  from 
his  body  by  his  fall. 

A  small,  keen-edged  hatchet  slipped  down  from 
the  sleeve  of  Luk  Chan.  He  gripped  its  handle 
and  as  it  swung  above  his  head  the  gleaming 
blade  flashed  in  his  eyes. 

One  stroke  and  his  oath  was  fulfilled. 

But  even  as  his  arm  swooped  downward  to 
cleave  the  skull  of  his  enemy  a  sweet  voice  seemed 
to  murmur  in  his  ear,  and  a  moonlit  balcony 
danced  within  his  brain. 

"Sen  Chee!" 

No  one  spoke.     There  was  no  one  to  speak,  to 


THE  INCENSE  VENDER 

see,  to  hear.  But  he  could  have  sworn  that  he 
heard  the  Chinese  maiden's  name. 

His  arm  dropped  to  his  side.  The  hatchet  slid 
back  into  his  sleeve,  and  he  helped  Louie  Toy  to 
rise. 

They  separated  at  the  freight  sheds,  and  each 
rode  back  to  Chinatown  alone. 


59 


j 


CHAPTER  IV 

FISH    ALLEY 

UAN  LUCERO'S  muchacha  was  not  so  seri- 


ously hurt  as  the  Mexican's  pursuers  believed. 
She  was  hurried  to  the  emergency  hospital  while 
Officer  Mulcahey  and  the  rabble  at  his  heels  were 
scouring  Chinatown  for  the  boy,  but  beyond  a 
deep  knife  wound  in  her  shoulder  that  caused  con- 
siderable loss  of  blood  and  consequent  weakness 
she  was  in  no  danger. 

After  the  internes  dressed  her  injury  she  was 
removed  to  the  county  hospital,  where  a  stay  of 
two  weeks  was  counseled  by  the  head-surgeon. 
When  she  had  recovered  somewhat  from  the  shock 
and  excitement  she  refused  to  bring  any  charge 
against  her  assailant,  and  the  police  were  power- 
less. The  man  who  had  been  the  cause  of  it 
all  disappeared,  and  soon  afterward  the  news 
traveled  by  some  grape-vine  system  of  the  under- 
world to  the  frightened  creature  in  Louie  Toy's 
cellar. 

60 


FISH  ALLEY 

He  had  been  working  with  the  Chinamen, 
garbed  as  they  were,  and  had  kept  so  still  a  tongue 
in  his  head  and  labored  so  docilely  that  Fong 
Toon  had  conceived  a  strange  liking  for  him,  and, 
in  his  Oriental  way,  had  sounded  his  praises  to 
Louie  Toy. 

When  Juan  heard  of  his  sweetheart's  condition 
his  courage  returned,  and  he  sought  the  manager 
of  the  Hippodrome  to  beg  a  continuation  of  his 
engagement. 

The  booking-agent  of  a  tenderloin  circuit  that 
held  several  weeks  of  steady  work  happened  to 
be  in  the  office,  and  the  possibilities  of  the  act  ap- 
pealed to  him. 

The  morning  papers  had  contained  vivid  ac- 
counts of  Lucero's  attack  on  the  girl  and  would 
furnish  a  far  better  "ad"  than  any  press  agent 
could  obtain.  So  an  arrangement  was  made  and 
the  boy  was  billed  as  a  headliner  on  the  dance- 
hall  boards. 

By  the  advice  of  the  agent,  a  dummy  figure 
was  used  as  a  target.  The  programmes  announced 
that  "The  Great  Lucero"  would  be  seen  in  a 
"knife-casting  exhibition  of  marvelous  skill,"  and 
that  the  same  "stiletto  that  had  sapped  the  life- 
>  61 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

blood  of  Carlotta"  would  be  used  by  him  again. 

It  appealed  to  the  tenderloin  denizens,  and  the 
act  "went  big." 

Juan,  filled  with  remorse,  thought  only  of  his 
girl's  recovery,  and  he  made  daily  drafts  on  his 
salary,  spending  it  all  on  dainties  that  were  sent 
to  the  hospital. 

He  was  so  grateful  to  the  Chinese  merchant 
that  he  offered  to  continue  his  work  in  the  pack- 
ing room,  and  Louie,  impelled,  no  doubt,  by 
prescience,  let  him  have  his  own  way.  Save  for 
the  short  intervals  when  he  appeared  at  the 
theater,  he  worked  at  Fong  Toon's  crates,  and 
took  his  meals  with  the  Orientals.  A  strange  pro- 
ceeding surely,  but  he  was  an  alien,  more  of  an 
outcast  perhaps  than  the  Mongols  with  whom  he 
fraternized.  There  was  no  mention  of  pay,  and 
no  one  concerned  thought  of  it. 

One  afternoon,  while  he  was  hurrying  down 
Jackson  street  to  the  theater,  he  saw  Ming  Tai 
talking  to  Detective  Sergeant  Bray  in  front  of 
his  fish  stall. 

Just  as  he  passed  them  he  thought  he  heard 
Louie  Toy's  name  spoken,  and  it  impelled  him 
to  pause.  He  bent  over,  fumbling  with  his  shoe- 

62 


FISH  ALLEY 

lace,  and  caught  a  phrase  or  two  in  the  China- 
man's "pidgin"  English.  When  he  straightened, 
his  eyes  were  glistening,  and  he  mumbled  a  low 
sentence  in  his  mother  tongue. 

What  he  had  heard  spelled  danger  to  his  bene- 
factor. If  he  had  gone  directly  to  Louie  Toy  with 
the  tale  several  lives  might  have  been  saved,  and 
much  of  villainy  averted.  But  the  crude  work- 
ings of  the  boy's  mind  were  not  equal  to  his  prob- 
lem. 

As  he  walked  on  down  the  hill  a  fantastical 
plan  formed  in  his  brain  and  he  determined  to  of- 
fer himself  as  a  sacrifice  on  the  altar  of  gratitude. 
Perhaps  he  could  carry  out  his  idea  alone.  At 
least  he  would  try. 

Sen  Chee  was  the  stumbling-block.  He  wor- 
shiped her  for  her  interference  in  his  behalf,  and 
he  would  save  her  father  and  thwart  the  schemes 
of  Ming  Tai. 

During  his  afternoon  performance  at  the  Hip- 
podrome he  cast  his  knives  so  badly  that  the 
stage-manager  "gave  him  a  call  down"  in  his 
dressing-room. 

When  Lucero  returned  to  the  Canton  Bazaar 
63 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

he  donned  his  rough,  Oriental  garb,  pulled  a 
slouch  hat  over  his  eyes,  and  slipped  out  of  the 
basement  entrance.  Even  an  expert  eye  might 
have  failed  to  detect  his  identity.  He  looked  ex- 
actly like  hundreds  of  other  young  Chinese  who 
thronged  the  streets  and  alleys.  Keeping  in  the 
shadows,  he  made  his  way  to  Fish  Alley  and  was 
soon  lost  to  sight  amongst  the  nondescript  crowd 
that  moved  ceaselessly  up  and  down  its  sidewalks. 

At  eleven  o'clock  Ming  Tai's  assistants  put  up 
his  shutters  and  he  went  to  his  till  to  count  his 
receipts. 

The  clinking  coins  slipped  through  his  fingers 
into  a  greasy  sack  and  his  eyes  narrowed  into  a 
gleam  of  pleasure,  but  they  opened  suddenly  as, 
picking  up  a  piece  of  silver,  he  spied  an  ivory  disk 
in  the  bottom  of  the  drawer. 

He  took  it  up  curiously,  rubbed  its  smooth  sur- 
face, and  turned  it  over  in  his  palm.  The  bag 
fell  unheeded  to  the  floor  as  he  stared  in  amaze- 
ment at  the  reverse  side.  The  ivory  disk  was 
an  insignificant  object,  but  it  held  much  of  por- 
tent to  the  old  tong-man.  Just  an  ordinary 
poker  chip,  white,  but  etched  crudely  in  red  ink 
on  its  surface  was  a  tiger-cat  (the  Chinese  name 

64 


FISH  ALLEY 

for  the  California  wildcat),  with  snarling  lips, 
teeth  exposed,  tail  a-curl,  back  arched,  and  vi- 
cious claws  extended.  He  shot  a  swift  glance 
at  his  assistants,  but  they  were  chattering  inno- 
cently. A  subtle  fear  crept  over  him.  He 
picked  up  the  sack,  thrust  it  beneath  his  blouse, 
and  stared  again  at  the  disk. 

Whenever  a  tiger-cat  is  killed  in  the  Marin 
County  hills,  it  is  shipped  to  some  San  Francisco 
commission  house,  and  before  long  becomes  the 
property,  at  a  very  fancy  price,  of  some  warring 
highbinder,  who  eats  its  heart  and  throws  the 
carcass  away.  This  may  seem  absurd  to  the 
peaceful  inhabitants  of  an  eastern  community, 
but  every  resident  of  the  western  metropolis  who 
is  at  all  versed  in  the  customs  of  its  cosmopoli- 
tan population  knows  it  to  be  a  very  common 
rite.  The  tong-man  who  eats  the  heart  of  a 
tiger-cat  is  held  in  reverence  by  his  fellows,  for 
they  know  that  to  do  so  instils  bravery  in  his 
bosom  and  that  he  will  slay  without  a  tremor 
at  the  mandate  of  his  tong. 

Ming  Tai's  brow  wrinkled.  Did  the  sprawl- 
ing beast  portend  evil?  No,  it  was  impossible. 
It  was  some  fetish,  some  pocket-piece,  that  had 

65 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

slipped  by  mistake  into  his  till  with  the  coin  of 
a  customer.  He  snapped  it  in  two  between  his 
fingers  and  threw  the  broken  bits  into  a  garbage 
can  at  the  rear  of  the  store. 

More  important  business  was  at  hand  and  he 
dismissed  the  incident  from  his  mind. 

The  exterior  of  Ming's  fish  market  was  inno- 
cent enough  in  the  daytime.  It  was  an  object 
of  interest  to  eastern  visitors,  who  saw  the  great 
zinc-lined  counters,  with  their  burdens  of  fish, — 
sun-fish,  sand-dabs,  barracouta,  skates,  perch, 
smelt,  sardines,  rock-cod,  flounders,  striped  bass, 
— piled  in  indiscriminate  masses  and  pawed  over 
throughout  the  day  by  the  dirty  fingers  of  the 
bartering  Mongols,  who  bought  them  at  one- 
third  the  price  they  would  have  paid  in  the 
American  markets. 

Along  the  wall  were  heavy  wooden  crates  that 
held  Peking  ducks,  and  below  the  sidewalk,  vis- 
ible through  a  wooden  grating,  hundreds  of 
chickens  roosted  on  bamboo  perches,  disconso- 
lately awaiting  their  turn  for  execution.  Yes, 
it  was  all  very  innocent,  but  the  fish  and  the 
poultry-stalls  furnished  the  minor  part  of  Ming 
Tai's  income. 

66 


FISH  ALLEY 

He  engaged  in  traffic  of  another  kind  after 
midnight. 

Below  the  store  was  a  large  cellar,  low-ceiled, 
with  a  sawdust  sprinkled  floor.  It  contained  a 
score  of  tables,  about  which  were  seated  groups 
of  wildly  excited  Chinese  as  Ming,  after  discard- 
ing the  broken  disk  of  ivory,  slipped  through  a 
rear  door  and  peered  about  him,  snuffing  the 
smoke-laden  atmosphere. 

He  smiled.  Business  was  good.  It  was  le- 
gally conducted  too.  Under  the  name  of  the 
"Royal  Peking  Club,"  gambling  of  all  kinds  was 
licensed.  The  White  Devils  could  not  obtain 
permits  to  run  gambling-clubs  of  their  own,  but 
the  City  Fathers  winked  at  and  did  not  inter- 
fere with  Celestial  customs  or  inclinations,  ex- 
cept in  the  matter  of  ah-peen-yeen. 

And  many  whites  visited  the  Chinese  dens, 
where  they  could  play  the  lottery,  daytime  or 
night-time,  and  indulge  in  games  of  dominoes,  pi- 
gow,  or  fan-tan. 

Ming  Tai,  although  more  prosperous  than  any 
inmate  of  his  gambling-cellar,  was  the  most 
wretched-appearing  object  in  the  room.  As  he 
shuffled  about,  with  flapping  slippers  and  bent 

67 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

shoulders,  mumbling  a  greeting  here  and  there, 
his  unkempt  clothes, — his  blouse,  marked  with  a 
greasy,  shining  stain  between  its  shoulders  from 
the  constant  rubbing  of  his  queue, — his  twitching 
hands,  pallid  cheeks,  bleary  eyes,  marked  him 
rather  as  a  devotee  of  the  opium  pipe  than  one 
of  the  most  powerful  figures  in  San  Francisco's 
Chinatown.  In  a  smoke-laden  corner  of  the 
room,  ten  or  a  dozen  evil-looking  Celestials  were 
seated  about  a  table,  and  Ming  took  his  station 
by  the  dealer,  watching  their  play  with  avari- 
cious eyes.  This  was  one  of  the  most  profitable 
sources  of  his  income. 

The  dealer  stood  by  a  glass  jar  filled  with 
beans.  He  would  dip  his  hand  into  the  jar  and 
draw  it  out  full  of  little  white  objects  that  meant 
so  much  to  the  players.  They  would  place  their 
bets  on  the  boards  in  front  of  them  and  he  would 
begin  to  count:  "Yet!  Gee!  Som!  Sayee!" 
("One!  Two!  Three!  Four!"),  dropping  a  bean 
on  the  table  at  each  monosyllable.  The  excited 
Chinese  shrilled  the  count  with  him  until  the 
noise  was  a  Babel.  The  game  was  to  guess 
whether  there  would  be  one,  two,  three,  or  none 
left  in  his  hand  after  the  beans  had  all  been 

68 


FISH  ALLEY 

counted  out  by  fours,  and  although  two  or  three 
players  always  won,  receiving  even  money  for 
their  bets,  the  great  majority  of  their  coins  were 
raked  into  the  dealer's  pile.  This  was  the  fa- 
mous game  of  fan-tan,  played  all  over  the  world, 
wherever  a  Chinese  population  may  be  found. 
And  one  redeeming  trait  of  the  Chinese  is  that 
he  never  cheats  at  his  gambling. 

As  Ming  was  chuckling  to  himself  after  a  par- 
ticularly successful  hand  he  heard  suddenly  the 
low  jangle  of  a  bell  and  slipped  away,  going 
behind  a  wooden  partition  and  down  a  gloomy 
passageway  to  the  rear  of  the  cellar.  He  tapped 
on  the  door-panel,  and  receiving  a  peculiar  sig- 
nal in  return,  shot  the  bolt. 

A  woman  wearing  a  dowdy  fur  coat  that  was 
partly  hooked,  a  short  skirt  of  rich  material  that 
was  stained  with  wine  dregs,  and  high-heeled 
shoes  and  silk  stockings,  smirked  at  him  braz- 
enly and  dropped  some  clinking  coins  in  his  hand 
as  she  switched  a  lace  scarf  from  her  head  and 
showed  her  rouged  cheeks  and  eyes  that  held  the 
hopelessness  of  ages.  Without  a  word  he  faced 
about,  led  the  way  past  another  turn  in  the  par- 
tition, and  thrust  back  a  heavy  hanging  that  dis- 

69 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

played  three  bunks,  almost  identical  in  appear- 
ance with  stateroom  berths  in  small  coasting 
steamers. 

The  upper  one  was  empty,  but  a  partly  dis- 
robed Mongol  was  sprawled  in  the  lower  one, 
breathing  heavily,  with  the  leaden  whites  of  his 
eyeballs  showing  beneath  half-closed  lids.  A 
pungent  odor  hung  in  the  air. 

The  woman  laughed,  crawled  into  the  middle 
bunk,  and  Ming  brought  her  a  tray,  which  she 
seized  avidly  as  she  rested  on  her  elbow. 

He  left  her,  and  with  trembling  fingers  she 
struck  a  match  and  lighted  a  small  alcohol  lamp. 
The  creature  was  an  opium  fiend  and  the  tray 
contained  a  hop  layout. 

She  lifted  a  pipe  with  a  mushroom-shaped 
bowl,  in  the  center  of  which  was  drilled  a  tiny 
hole.  Then  she  took  a  small  needle,  dipped  it 
into  a  tin  of  brown,  sticky  substance,  twisted  it 
into  a  ball,  and  held  it  over  the  burning  wick 
until  it  melted  and  began  to  run  like  molten  wax. 
Turning  it  deftly,  she  let  it  trickle  into  the  hole 
in  her  pipe  and  drew  a  long,  languorous  inhala- 
tion, sighing  in  satisfaction  as  the  smoke  entered 

her  lungs. 

70 


FISH  ALLEY 

A  half-dozen  times  the  operation  was  re- 
peated; then,  as  she  reached  for  the  lamp,  her 
pipe  slipped  from  her  grasp,  the  needle  fell  un- 
heeded to  the  floor,  and  she  sank  back  on  her 
pillow,  two  spots  of  rouge  glowing  upon  her 
sallow  cheeks  as  she  entered  the  land  of  lotus 
dreams  and  unhallowed  delights.  The  spell  of 
poppy  juice  was  upon  her  and  for  an  hour  at 
least  the  sordidness  of  her  world  was  left  behind. 

If  the  customs  inspectors  or  the  secret  serv- 
ice agents  could  have  peeped  in  behind  the 
hangings,  Ming  Tai's  income  and  his  liberty  too 
might  have  been  suddenly  curtailed. 

He  had  already  forgotten  his  customer  in  the 
allurements  of  fan- tan  and  at  the  insistence  of 
some  of  the  players  had  taken  the  dealer's  place. 
He  pushed  aside  the  tin  cover  of  the  bean  jar, 
drew  up  his  sleeve  and  dealt  so  successfully  that 
the  pile  of  coins  before  him  grew  larger  and 
larger,  and  the  voices  of  the  players  increased  to 
a  discordant  medley  of  broken  cries  as  they  hung 
on  the  count  and  watched  their  bets  go  glim- 
mering. 

A  sudden  commotion  near  the  door  caused 
him  to  look  up,  and  a  hush  fell  as  the  guard 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

ushered  in  a  dignified  Chinese.  It  was  Tom 
Chong,  the  high  chief  of  the  Bo  Sing  Tong,  and 
his  eyes  lifted  in  an  almost  imperceptible  signal 
to  Ming  Tai  as  he  passed  him  and  seated  himself 
on  a  wooden  settee  in  an  alcove  devoted  to  the 
use  of  Ming's  wealthier  customers.  It  was  de- 
serted now,  and  he  sat  there  for  a  time,  puffing 
his  bamboo  pipe  and  waiting  for  his  ally  to  find 
an  opportunity  to  join  him. 

At  last,  as  one  or  two  of  the  players  went 
"broke"  and  pushed  back  their  chairs,  Ming 
called  to  the  dealer  to  take  his  place,  and  uncon- 
sciously lifted  the  little  tin  cover. 

The  inherent  stoicism  of  his  race  was  all  that 
kept  him  from  crying  aloud  in  terror,  for  gleam- 
ing on  the  table  was  a  white  ivory  disk,  with  a 
snarling  tiger-cat  etched  across  its  surface.  In- 
stinct came  to  his  rescue  and  the  chip  slipped 
into  his  palm  as  the  cover  clattered  to  the  floor. 
He  picked  it  up,  replaced  it,  and  hurried  on 
trembling  limbs  to  the  alcove,  where  he  dropped 
to  a  seat  alongside  of  Tom  Chong.  He  tried  to 
conceal  the  fear  that  possessed  him. 

Tom  Chong  drew  away  from  him  as  far  as  the 
small  settee  would  allow.  A  slight  shudder  of 

72 


FISH  ALLEY 

repulsion  was  conquered,  and  he  eyed  the  old  vil- 
lain curiously. 

"What  ails  you,  Ming  Tai?  Your  face  is  of 
the  hue  of  incense  ashes." 

The  old  Chinaman's  visage  wrinkled  in  a 
smile. 

"The  burden  of  years,  Tom  Chong.  And, 
perhaps,  smoke  fumes  and  this  foul  atmosphere. 
We  dare  not  have  ventilators.  The  Police  Devils 
might  spy  on  us,  or  hear  sounds  not  intended  for 
their  ears." 

Tom  Chong  grunted.  "What  have  you  in 
your  hand*?" 

Ming  repressed  a  start  and  opened  his  fingers. 

By  good  fortune  the  plain  side  lay  upward  and 
there  was  nothing  significant  to  the  tong-chief  s 
eyes.  His  henchman  would  not  have  aroused  his 
suspicion  for  all  the  world.  Chong  was  crafty 
and  a  glimpse  of  the  tiger-cat  might  have  put 
him  on  his  guard  and  caused  him  to  alter  plans 
whose  execution  was  vital  to  Ming  Tai. 

"I  found  a  poker  chip  amongst  the  coins.  It 
must  have  slipped  in  with  some  player's  bet." 

Absently  he  broke  it  in  two,  then  snapped  each 
of  the  halves  again  between  his  fingers  and  threw 

73 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

the  bits  away.  His  chief  noticed  nothing  out  of 
the  ordinary,  but  a  great  fear  possessed  the  fish 
dealer's  soul. 

For  some  reason  he  was  marked,  and  time 
alone  would  reveal  the  significance  of  his  warn- 
ing. 

Tom  Cheng's  queries  came  to  him  through  a 
haze,  but  at  last  he  pulled  himself  together  and 
managed  to  give  rational  answers. 

"Louie  Toy  still  lives,"  said  the  high  chief  at 
length.  "The  ah-'peen-yeen  is  in  your  cellars. 
The  price  has  been  paid,  but  Louie  Toy  still 
lives." 

Ming  Tai  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"It  is  only  the  second  night  since  Luk  Chan 
took  his  blood-oath." 

"True.  But  Luk  Chan's  orders  were  plain. 
And  they  were  not  fulfilled." 

Ming  hastened  to  agree. 

"Why  did  he  not  remove  our  enemy  after  the 
money  was  paid  over  for  his  ah-peen-yeen? 
Then  you  would  have  fallen  heir  to  the  drug, 
Ming  Tai,  and  none  could  have  disputed  your 
ownership — and  mine." 

"Gow!"  muttered  the  fish  dealer.  "I  know 
74 


FISH  ALLEY 

not  what  went  wrong.  But  it  is  only  a  matter 
of  days,  Tom  Chong.  The  oath  of  Luk  Chan 
must  be  fulfilled  before  the  eleventh  Sun,  or  his 
life  is  forfeit."  His  lip  curled.  "I  would  have 
killed  them  both,  had  I  been  given  my  way  that 
night  at  the  Mail  Dock." 

His  chief  stared. 

"Luk  Chan  is  but  a  tool;  we  must  protect 
him." 

"Bah!  I  juggled  the  green  slips  at  our  meet- 
ing when  Luk  Chan's  name  was  drawn  and  I 
fooled  even  you.  Luk  Chan  must  die." 

"Why?' 

"He  has  taken  something  of  Louie  Toy's  that 
I  desire,  that  I  will  have,  even  if  in  getting  it  I 
disrupt  the  Bo  Sing  Tong." 

"What  do  you  mean"?  What  has  Luk  Chan 
that  he  has  not  turned  over  to  you*?" 

"The  heart  of  Louie's  daughter.  The  heart 
of  Sen  Chee." 

Tom  Chong  fell  back  in  his  seat  astounded, 
then  recovering,  he  gave  vent  to  a  fit  of  silent 
laughter  that  roused  his  companion's  ire. 

A  figure,  crouching  in  a  dark  corner  of  the  set- 
tee, rose  to  its  feet  and  glided  noiselessly  into  the 

75 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

larger  room,  unnoticed  by  either  of  the  Chinamen. 

Ming  Tai's  anger  rose. 

"I  see  no  cause  for  mirth.  Sen  Chee  is  young 
and  graceful  as  a  willow.  She  would  make  a 
pretty  slave." 

"But  you  have  the  years  of  our  pagodas,  Ming 
Tai.  They  should  bring  you  the  wisdom  of  Con- 
fucius. Say  that  this  is  a  jest." 

"It  is  the  truth,"  crustily.  "Have  I  ever 
claimed  any  reward  for  myself  during  all  the 
years  that  I  have  assisted  you  in  the  councils  of 
the  Bo  Sings'?  I  have  made  you,  Tom  Chong,  a 
despised  outcast,  an  urchin  of  the  streets,  the 
leader  of  the  most  powerful  society  in  this  coun- 
try of  the  White  Devils.  You  have  been  their 
high  chief,  respected,  kowtowed  to  by  men  whose 
feet  you  are  not  fit  to  kiss,  men  who  would  spurn 
you,  would  spit  on  you,  would  cast  you  out  into 
the  gutters,  if  they  knew  your  ancestry.  What 
have  I  had  of  all  the  years'? — I,  Ming  Tai,  the 
despised  peddler  of  Fish  Alley,  old  and  weaz- 
ened, bent  by  my  toil,  hideous  even?  Yet  be- 
neath it  all  I  have  a  heart  and  my  heart  cries 
out  for  its  desire.  I  have  been  too  busy  through 
all  my  life,  but  now, — yes,  even  to  you  I  say  it, 

76 


FISH  ALLEY 

— now  my  brain  has  turned  to  thoughts  of  love." 

A  sneer  curled  Tom  Chong's  lip,  but  it  died 
in  its  inception. 

There  was  a  sudden,  resounding  crash  at  the 
street  door,  the  sound  of  heavy  blows  and  splin- 
tering wood,  and  as  the  frightened  inmates  of  the 
gambling-hall  dived  under  tables  and  scurried  for 
cover  like  rabbits  scuttering  to  their  warrens,  the 
barrier  gave  way  and  a  squad  of  police  rushed 
through  the  opening. 

Tom  Chong  and  Ming  Tai  leaped  up  and 
started  in  opposite  directions,  but  were  jerked 
from  their  feet  and  dashed  to  the  floor  so 
abruptly  that  the  breath  was  driven  from  their 
bodies  and  they  gaped  stupidly  at  the  men  who 
bent  over  them,  and  gasped  in  agony. 

Some  one  had  tied  their  queues  together  as 
they  plotted  on  the  bench,  and,  like  Absalom  of 
Biblical  days,  their  hair  brought  about  their 
downfall. 


77 


CHAPTER  V 
SEN  CHEE'S  BALCONY 

SOMETHING  was  wrong  with  Sen  Chee. 
Since  the  night  that  she  recognized  Luk 
Chan  beneath  the  rags  of  the  incense-vender 
she  had  drooped  like  one  of  the  fading  lilies  on 
her  balcony  rail. 

Instinct  warned  her  that  there  was  menace  in 
her  lover's  disguise.  His  surreptitious  journey 
with  her  father,  the  abrupt  answer  that  she  re- 
ceived when  she  questioned  Louie  Toy,  her  fail- 
ure to  see  the  young  tong-man  since  that  visit, 
all  combined  to  worry  her. 

Her  placid  life  had  suddenly  changed.  Ever 
since  childhood  she  had  been  her  father's  confi- 
dante, and  now  constraint  had  sprung  up  be- 
tween them.  With  the  perverseness  of  maiden- 
hood, she  gave  way  to  the  feeling  that  something 
evil  had  befallen  Luk  Chan. 

Perhaps  her  father  had  recognized  his  enemy 

78 


SEN  CHEE'S  BALCONY 

and  had  caused  one  of  his  agents  to  make  way 
with  him.  Else  why  had  he  not  made  his  daily 
visit  to  their  shop- window  ? 

For  two  long  afternoons  she  had  looked  for 
him  in  vain,  and  now,  sick  at  heart,  she  kept  her 
room.  She  gave  petulant  answers  to  her  father's 
queries  and  begged  to  be  left  alone.  His  eyes  be- 
held but  bodily  illness ;  he  could  not  see  the  sick- 
ness of  her  soul. 

Dressed  in  her  flowered  kimono,  she  lay  upon 
her  couch,  staring  at  the  ceiling  and  seeing  visions 
of  hatchet-men  with  upraised  arms.  Dozing  fit- 
fully, she  would  dream  of  dreadful  happenings, 
would  hear  a  despairing  call  for  help,  and  would 
awaken  to  the  blankness  of  unsympathetic  sun- 
light on  a  tinted  wall. 

At  last  she  could  stand  the  strain  no  longer, 
and  rising  with  a  sigh,  stepped  across  the  window- 
sill  and  seated  herself  in  the  little  wicker  chair 
at  the  corner  of  her  balcony. 

The  nodding  lilies  failed  to  interest  her.  She 
looked  at  the  brick  wall  of  the  joss-house  and 
thought  of  a  moonlit  night  when  Luk  Chan  de- 
scended suddenly  from  the  heights  beyond  and 
whispered  to  her  of  love. 

79 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

She  closed  her  eyes  to  lock  beneath  their  lids 
the  happiest  memory  of  her  life.  Once  again 
Luk  Chan's  voice  commanded  her  to  follow  him 
to  the  ends  of  the  earth  and  once  again  she 
bowed  submissive  to  his  will. 

"Where  you  go,  I  will  go,  beloved,"  she  mur- 
mured. "I  will  leave  my  father  and  his  people. 
Whether  you  take  me  to  the  spice  lands  of  Cathay 
or  to  the  deathless  Vale  of  the  Thousand  Years, 
I  shall  be  content.  The  Thousand  Years  are 
long,  but  our  souls  will  be  purified  with  waiting, 
and  will  dwell  thereafter  in  Eternity.  Luk 
Chan,  you  are  my  man  and  if  harm  has  be- 
fallen you  at  my  father's  hands  I  will  join  you 
beyond  the  gates.  At  Wing  Kee's  drug  store 
there  is  an  herb  that  will  transport  me  quickly  to 
the  regions  where  you  dwell.  Life  is  death  with- 
out you,  and  death  will  bring  me  your  com- 
panionship and  love." 

Her  head  sank  forward  on  her  bosom  and  a 
tear-drop  trickled  down  her  cheek. 

In  her  anguish  she  forgot  the  flight  of  time. 
An  hour  had  passed,  and  she  had  sobbed  herself 
into  a  light  doze  when  she  was  awakened  by  the 
scraping  of  a  chair  on  the  flags  below  the  balcony 

80 


SEN  CHEE'S  BALCONY 

and  the  acrid  odor  of  tobacco  smoke  assailed  her 
nostrils. 

A  sentence,  spoken  in  a  guttural  tone,  caused 
her  to  sit  upright  suddenly  and  to  grip  the  arms 
of  her  chair. 

It  was  the  voice  of  Ming  Tai  and  it  carried 
a  portent  of  evil. 

"What  thought  you  of  the  incense- vender, 
Louie  Toy*?  His  looks  belied  his  mission." 

The  merchant  chuckled. 

"He  was  unknown  to  me.  But  his  mission 
was  a  fruitful  one.  We  will  profit  by  many 
taels  through  the  sale  of  his  ah-peen-yeen.  May 
his  visit  be  soon  repeated." 

A  load  fell  from  the  heart  of  Sen  Chee.  That 
one  casual  sentence  from  her  father's  lips  lifted 
the  weight  of  the  universe  from  her  bosom.  Luk 
Chan  still  lived.  He  was  expected  to  visit  the 
Canton  Bazaar  again.  If  she  had  been  a  Chris- 
tian maid,  she  would  have  sung  and  danced  her 
delight,  and  thereby  caused  her  lover's  downfall. 
But  she  was  a  Chinese  girl,  so  she  sat  there  si- 
lently and  waited. 

"I  have  been  most  uneasy,  Ming  Tai,"  said  her 
father  at  length.  "Fong  Toon  brought  me  news 

81 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

of  the  police  raid  last  night.  I  feared  that  the 
drug  had  been  discovered  and  that  you  might 
spend  the  balance  of  your  days  in  prison." 

The  fish  dealer  laughed. 

"I  am  too  old  at  the  game,  Louie  Toy.  It 
was  a  close  call,  I  confess,  but  the  ah-peen-yeen 
is  safely  stowed,  and  I  am  free  to  dispose  of  it." 

"It  must  have  been  the  work  of  a  spy." 

"I  fear  so.  As  I  chatted  with  a  wealthy  cus- 
tomer apart  from  the  tables  some  ghee  fastened 
our  queues  together,  and  had  it  not  been  for  the 
cleverness  of  my  dealers  I  might  be  even  now  in 
jail.  In  the  confusion,  they  spirited  away  a 
white  woman  and  one  of  our  own  people  who 
were  under  the  influence  of  the  drug,  along  with 
their  layouts.  A  new  sergeant  of  the  Police 
Devils  thought  to  make  a  record,  but  he  was  dis- 
appointed. Two  customs  inspectors  searched 
the  cellar  thoroughly,  as  they  thought,  but  they 
failed  to  find  even  one  five-tael  tin.  They 
smelled  the  smoke,  they  knew  that  we  had  vio- 
lated the  law,  but  the  dogs  were  off  the  scent. 
They  gave  it  up  at  last  and  we  were  left  to  play 
our  games  in  peace." 

"And  the  new  sergeant?" 
82 


SEN  CHEE'S  BALCONY 

"He  will  be  removed.  One  of  my  agents 
whispered  a  word  that  was  passed  to  police  head- 
quarters this  morning,  along  with  a  certain  packet 
of  crisp  bills,  and  assurance  has  already  reached 
me  that  the  troublesome  official  will  be  detailed 
on  an  outside  beat." 

"Good !  But  Detective  Bray  and  Officer  Mul- 
cahey'?" 

"Officer  Mulcahey  would  sell  his  soul  for  a 
hundred  taels,  and  I  am  valuable  to  Detective 
Bray.  He  will  close  his  eyes  to  my  misdeeds  as 
long  as  I  continue  to  give  him  certain  valuable 
information.  An  ambitious  man  can  be  pur- 
chased by  other  means  than  the  passing  of  gold 


coin." 


"Your  words  are  music  to  my  ears.     The  ah- 
feen-yeen    is    safe.     It   caused    me    much   con- 


cern." 


"More  than  the  safety  of  Ming  Tai,"  sneered 
Louie's  companion.  "But  you  sent  for  me. 
Surely  more  important  business  than  fears  for  my 
welfare  impelled  your  message." 

"You  speak  with  a  serpent's  wisdom,  Ming 
Tai.  I  would  question  you  concerning  Luk 
Chan." 

83 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

"Luk  Chan!" 

"Yes;  Luk  Chan,  my  enemy.  Tell  me  about 
him." 

There  was  a  slight  movement  on  the  balcony 
above  them  and  the  merchant  rose  quickly,  with 
a  warning  "S-s-h!" 

He  went  inside  his  store,  ascended  to  Sen 
Chee's  apartment,  opened  the  door  softly,  and 
peered  within.  His  daughter  was  lying  on  her 
couch,  head  pillowed  in  her  arm,  breathing 
deeply,  and  she  made  no  movement  as  he  called 
her  name.  Silently  he  pulled  the  door  to  and 
tiptoed  down  the  stairs,  seating  himself  with  a 
grunt  of  satisfaction  before  Ming  Tai. 

"The  soul  of  a  conspirator  is  ever  suspicious," 
he  said. 

"A  conspirator*?" 

"Yes,  for  I  would  conspire  against  the  life  of 
an  enemy." 

His  complacence  would  have  received  a  rude 
shock  had  he  known  that  the  lithe  figure  sprang 
from  its  bed  at  the  closing  of  the  door  and  was 
even  now  crouching  on  the  balcony,  listening  to 
every  word  that  passed  his  lips. 

"What  do  you  mean1?" 

"Luk  Chan  is  in  love  with  my  daughter." 
84 


SEN  CHEE'S  BALCONY 

Ming  Tai  bit  his  pipe-stem  so  violently  that 
the  bamboo  cracked  and  splintered  between  his 
teeth;  but  he  masked  his  feelings,  and  Louie  Toy 
went  on. 

"Luk  Chan  makes  sheep's-eyes  at  my  Lily 
Flower.  He  stands  at  my  windows  almost  daily 
and  there  is  a  love-sickness  in  his  glare.  Sen 
Chee  has  noticed  him  of  late  and  her  cheek  colors 
when  he  looks  at  her.  The  sign  is  ominous;  he 
must  be  removed." 

"You  are  speaking  in  riddles,  Louie  Toy. 
Come  to  the  point." 

"I  will,  Ming  Tai.  How  much  is  it  worth  to 
remove  him*?" 

"Do  you  mean  murder^" 

"It  is  not  a  pretty  name." 

"You  dare  to  talk  to  me  of  such  a  plan!" 

"You  were  not  so  particular  in  days  gone  by. 
I  could  remind  you  of  two  or  three  disappear- 
ances of  our  countrymen,  when  you  were  poor, 
and  when  the  bestowing  of  a  few  taels  were  suffi- 
cient reward  for  your  work, — work  well  accom- 
plished, too.  I  might  even  mention  names,  if 
your  memory  fails  you.  For  instance,  there  was 
the  old  shoe  merchant,  Fo " 

"S-s-h!"  Ming  clutched  his  wrist  in  a  tremu- 
85 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

lous  grasp.  "The  past  is  buried,  Louie  Toy. 
Let  it  sleep." 

"Along  with  your  victims,"  scoffed  the  mer- 
chant. 

His  visitor  crumpled  up  in  his  chair,  with 
cheeks  gray  as  a  November  dawn. 

"What  do  you  want  of  me*?"  he  mumbled. 
"Let  us  talk  of  present  business  and  the  sale  of 
ah-peen-yeen  /" 

"No!  We  will  talk  of  living  sacrifices.  I 
will  pay  you  one  thousand  taels  for  the  life  of 
Luk  Chan." 

Ming  Tai  glared  at  him,  his  tongue  licking 
parched  lips,  his  fingers  trembling. 

The  merchant  could  not  believe  the  evidence 
of  his  eyes.  Ming  had  never  before  shown  a 
tremor  when  a  human  life  hung  in  the  balance 
of  their  discussion.  But  Louie  Toy  did  not  know 
that  his  own  life  was  forfeit,  that  the  man  he 
thought  his  ally  was  playing  a  double  hand  and 
that  this  sudden  new  complication,  this  sugges- 
tion coming  from  the  lips  of  a  being  already 
doomed,  a  suggestion  that  spelled  death  to  the 
man  chosen  by  lot  to  be  his  slayer,  had  momen- 
tarily unnerved  him.  It  was  the  Irony  of  Fate. 

86 


SEN  CHEE'S  BALCONY 

But  even  as  Ming  Tai  cringed  there  beneath 
the  balcony  he  was  obsessed  by  a  new  idea.  The 
deaths  of  these  two  members  of  inimical  tongs 
would  remove  every  obstacle  from  his  path,  and 
he  might  contrive  carefully  and  lull  any  linger- 
ing suspicion  of  the  merchant  by  a  reluctant  ac- 
quiescence in  his  plans. 

With  an  effort  he  shook  off  the  feeling  that 
possessed  him.  His  beady  eyes  sparkled  and  he 
chuckled  as  he  spread  his  palms  in  protest. 

"Ming  Tai  is  growing  old.  The  blood  courses 
slowly  in  his  veins.  Even  his  ears  have  lost  their 
keenness  with  the  years.  He  will  listen  more  in- 
tently to  what  Louie  Toy  may  propose." 

The  answer  was  crisp  and  biting. 

"I  will  pay  you  one  thousand  taels  to  kill  Luk 
Chan." 

Ming  sat  as  if  he  had  not  heard,  eyes  partly 
closed,  countenance  immobile. 

Louie  tapped  the  arm  of  his  chair  impatiently. 
"One  thousand  taels,  Ming  Tai !" 

Slowly  his  auditor  raised  his  head.  Slowly  he 
spoke,  but  there  was  infinite  sarcasm  in  his  tones. 

"One  thousand  taels!  Five  hundred  dollars 
of  the  White  Devil's  money.  Has  my  tong 

87 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

comrade  lost  his  senses4?  It  is  a  poor  night  in- 
deed when  I  do  not  win  more  than  five  hundred 
dollars  from  the  players  in  my  gambling  hall,  and 
that  after  midnight,  Louie,  when  you  are  wrapt 
in  peaceful  dreams.  One  thousand  taels ! !  I 
have  been  overlong  from  my  customers.  It 
seems  that  you  sent  for  me  but  to  jest;  and  I  am 
in  no  mood  for  jesting." 

He  made  a  movement  as  if  to  rise,  but  Louie 
Toy  leaned  over,  placed  his  hand  on  his  shoul- 
der, and  thrust  him  roughly  back  into  his  seat. 

"In  the  name  of  the  great  Joss,  you  try  my 
patience.  I  will  pay  two  thousand  taels.  Let  us 
plan  the  details." 

"Two  thousand  devils ! ! !" 

"Two  thousand  taels,  Ming  Tai.  It  is  easily 
earned.  The  simple  snuffing  out  of  a  life,  a  few 
witnesses  cheaply  bought,  and  the  affair  is 
ended." 

"Remember,  I  am  no  longer  poor,  Louie  Toy." 

"Three  thousand  taels,  old  usurer.  It  is  the 
price  demanded  for  the  sparing  of  my  life  by  the 
Bo  Sing  Tong.  Bah!  I  snap  my  fingers  at 
them.  But  I  have  rated  the  life  of  Luk  Chan 
as  valuable  as  my  own.  I  will  not  raise  the 

88 


SEN  CHEE'S  BALCONY 

price.  If  your  heart  has  turned  you  coward,  I 
will  find  another,  who,  though  cheaper,  will  yet 
prove  more  brave." 

Ming  Tai  pulled  the  brim  of  his  hat  over  his 
eyes. 

"What  is  your  plan?"  he  asked  huskily. 

A  glow  of  satisfaction  thrilled  the  merchant. 
He  laid  a  friendly  hand  upon  Ming's  knee. 

"Start  a  tong  war!"  he  said  abruptly,  and  felt 
the  limb  tremble  beneath  his  palm. 

"A  tong  war*?" 

"Yes.  My  life  has  been  threatened  by  the  Bo 
Sings.  You  and  I  are  members  of  the  Hop  Sing 
Tong,  an  organization  equally  powerful.  The 
gauntlet  has  been  thrown  down.  Let  us  take  it 
up.  You  have  great  influence  in  our  society. 
Whisper  amongst  your  confederates  that  my  life 
is  in  danger.  Arrange  a  meeting  of  the  tong, 
mark  Luk  Chan  for  slaughter,  as  a  warning  to 
his  fellows,  and  when  he  is  removed  get  the  ear 
of  the  Police  Devils,  as  I  have  already  the  ear 
of  the  Consul ;  between  them  they  will  put  a  stop 
to  the  war,  and  a  long  truce  will  be  arranged.  It 
is  ever  the  history  of  our  battles.  Besides,  Luk 
Chan  is  only  an  humble  member  of  his  society 

89 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

and  his  death  will  cause  but  little  stir.  Come, 
old  comrade,  do  I  not  point  an  easy  way?" 

Could  he  have  seen  the  beads  of  perspiration 
on  Ming  Tai's  brow,  his  confidence  might  have 
been  shaken;  but  the  hat  brim  masked  them 
while  he  waited  for  his  answer. 

"A  tong  war  is  a  serious  affair,  Louie  Toy.  It 
is  not  so  easy  to  arrange  as  it  was  in  days  that 
are  past.  The  Police  Devil's  price  is  high. 
They  are  constantly  changing.  A  new  chief  is  to 
be  reckoned  with.  And  the  last  treaty  that  was 
arranged  carries  a  heavy  menace  to  those  who 
break  it." 

"I  am  tired  of  your  mouthing!  Will  you  ac- 
cept my  offer,  or  shall  I  take  my  wares  to  an- 
other market*?" 

"You  grow  impatient,  and  I  have  never  failed 
you.  Hold  your  temper  for  a  little,  while  I,  in 
turn,  make  a  proposal  to  you.  By  its  acceptance 
you  will  save  three  thousand  taels,  your  wishes 
will  be  gratified,  and  you  may  be  bound  to  Ming 
Tai  by  ties  stronger  than  those  of  friendship, 
Louie  Toy." 

"What  do  you  mean!!" 

"Am  I  ugly?  Am  I  old?  Am  I  bent  and  with- 
90 


SEN  CHEE'S  BALCONY 

ered  by  my  toil  and  by  the  years  I  have  lived?" 

"You  are  babbling  nonsense." 

"You  dodge  the  question.  I  will  assume  that 
you  have  answered  and  that  I  am  all  that  is 
hideous,  yet  I  have  been  your  friend." 

"Yes!     Yes!     Go  on!" 

"I  do  not  want  your  money,  Louie  Toy.  I 
want  something  more  precious  to  me  than  all 
your  gold,  than  all  the  ah-peen-yeen  that  you  can 
buy ! — I  want  your  daughter." 

Louie  Toy  gasped,  his  chin  fell,  his  fingers 
clutched  his  chair  arms  spasmodically.  He 
could  not  believe  the  evidence  of  his  ears. 

Ming  watched  him  furtively,  and  several  mo- 
ments passed  before  he  recovered  his  speech. 

"My  daughter!!  Have  you  gone  insane? — 
You,  you,  a  creature  of  the  slums,  a  peddler  of 
fish,  the  keeper  of  a  gambling-hell,  a  murderer, — 
yes,  a  murderer!!  You  would  take  my  little 
Sen  Chee,  my  spotless  Lily  Flower,  in  your  arms ! 
You  would  caress  her  with  hands  stained  with  the 
blood  of  her  people !  You,  the  vilest  of  all  vile 
creeping  things,  propose  this  to  me!  I  would 
rather  see  her  dead  than  bound  to  a  monster  such 
as  you!" 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

"Fine  words,  Louie  Toy.  I  might  mention 
names  too.  Names  of  more  than  one  who  were 
killed  at  your  bidding.  You  paid  the  price.  It 
is  admitted.  But  the  slightest  whisper  breathed 
in  the  ears  of  certain  relatives  of  dead  men  whose 
bones  have  long  since  been  sent  back  to  the  King- 
dom of  Flowers  would  bring  swifter  destruction 
to  you,  far  swifter,  than  the  mandates  of  the  Bo 
Sing  Tong.  You  reckoned  me  a  fool  when  I  did 
your  bidding.  You  held  me  cheap.  But  I  took 
care  that  my  own  hands  were  not  soiled  with 
blood.  I  had  willing  tools  to  do  your  work. 
They  struck  through  vengeance,  and  I  have  wit- 
nesses that  will  take  their  oath  that  you  alone 
killed  your  enemies. — Louie  Toy,  the  rich,  the  re- 
spected merchant,  a  friend  of  the  Consul,  will  be- 
come Louie  Toy,  the  murderer  of  the  man  who 
looked  with  covetous  eyes  upon  the  maid  he 
wanted  for  his  own  who  afterward  became  the 
mother  of  his  dear  Sen  Chee.  Do  you  think  I 
have  lived  unprepared  through  all  the  years? 
Ming  Tai  admits  he  is  a  great  rascal;  but  he  has 
never  been  a  fool." 

The  merchant  appeared  to  have  aged  at  least 
ten  years.  His  arrogance  was  dispelled,  and  the 

92 


SEN  CHEE'S  BALCONY 

fish  peddler  held  a  dominant  hand.    He  knew  it. 

"A  worse  fate  might  befall  Sen  Chee  than  to 
become  the  wife  of  the  rich  Ming  Tai.  Old  age 
ever  treats  youth  and  beauty  with  a  lavish  hand. 
Your  Lily  Flower  will  be  carefully  nurtured. 
She  will  be  decked  in  jewels  and  brocaded  silks. 
She  will  have  serving-women  to  wait  upon  her 
and  anticipate  her  every  wish.  Surely  it  will 
please  you  more  than  to  see  her  wedded  to  Luk 
Chan." 

Louie  Toy  looked  at  him  dully. 

"But  Sen  Chee  would  never  consent!" 

"Have  you  become  a  woman*?  Since  when 
have  the  children  of  our  race  disputed  their 
father's  will?" 

"What  is  your  plan?" 

"I  have  no  plan  until  you  consent  to  my  pos- 
session of  Sen  Chee!" 

"No!  No!  No!  Ask  me  anything  but 
that.  Take  the  precious  tins  of  ah-peen-yeen  in 
your  cellars.  Sell  them ;  keep  the  profit  for  your- 
self. Surely  that  will  pay  you  beyond  all  rea- 
son for  the  slaying  of  Luk  Chan.  The  years 
past  have  held  many  ties  of  affection,  but  you 
are  at  least  a  score  of  them  older  than  I,  and  I 

93 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

am  her  father.     Let  us  forget  the  words  you  have 
spoken  and  contrive  some  other  plan." 

"Louie  Toy,  I  am  in  earnest.  I  am  not  long 
for  the  delights  of  life.  All  my  wealth  will  not 
add  to  my  years.  I  have  tasted  the  bitterness, 
now  I  shall  have  some  of  the  sweets.  You  will 
give  me  Sen  Chee,  or  I  will  breathe  a  tiny  whisper 
that  will  mean  death  to  you  within  the  week. 
Come,  let  us  be  friends  as  in  the  past.  A  few 
tears,  some  broken  sighs,  a  fleeting  memory  of  a 
hatchet-man  who  looked  at  her  with  desiring 
eyes;  but  in  a  fortnight  all  will  be  forgotten,  and 
your  Lily  Flower  will  take  a  childish  delight  in 
the  pretty  baubles  bought  for  her  from  the  cof- 
fers of  old  Ming  Tai.  Her  father  will  see  her 
daily,  he  can  chide  her  for  her  extravagance,  he 
will  laugh  at  her  for  her  treatment  of  her  aged 
master,  and  he  will — save  his  life." 

Louie  sat  in  his  chair  as  still  as  the  wooden 
joss  in  the  meeting-place  of  his  enemies. 

At  last  he  looked  up  with  hopeless  eyes. 

"Ming  Tai  has  a  craftier  mind  than  I,"  he 
muttered.  "But  there  is  one  condition  that  I 
demand." 

"And  that  is?" 

94 


SEN  CHEFS  BALCONY 

"The  death  of  Luk  Chan, — my  hated  enemy !" 

"It  is  a  condition  that  will  be  swiftly  fulfilled." 

"Are  you  sure  that  you  can  handle  the  Police 
Devils?" 

"Louie  Toy  has  become  timorous  of  a  sudden. 
He  has  never  before  failed  to  have  confidence  in 
the  cunning  of  Ming  Tai." 

"It  is  the  first  time  that  Ming  Tai  has  failed  to 
demand  many  golden  taels  as  his  reward." 

"My  reward  is  far  more  precious  than  your 
gold,  old  friend." 

"But,  Luk  Chan — "  hesitantly. 

"You  need  have  no  fear.  Luk  Chan  will 
die!" 

He  bent  over  to  whisper  some  further  details 
of  his  plan,  but  he  need  not  have  lowered  his 
voice.  The  ears  of  the  little  maid  on  the  balcony 
were  deaf  to  all  that  they  might  say,  for  she  lay 
in  a  huddled  heap  in  her  chair,  with  lips  parted 
and  eyes  closed,  while  a  last  ray  of  the  setting 
sun  gleamed  momentarily  on  her  unconscious 
form. 


95 


CHAPTER  VI 

A   DRUG  ON   THE    MARKET 

MING  TAI  walked  back  to  his  fish  market 
in  an  extremely  perturbed  frame  of  mind. 
He  had  won  a  complete  victory  in  his  argument 
with  Louie  Toy,  but  the  price  was  heavy.  He 
was  committed  to  a  plot  to  kill  Luk  Chan,  and 
he  feared  Luk  Chan  more  than  any  other  hatchet- 
man  in  San  Francisco. 

Louie  Toy  must,  of  necessity,  die  first,  or  his 
hand  would  be  shown  to  the  members  of  the  Bo 
Sing  Tong.  He  had  carried  water  on  both 
shoulders  for  a  long  time,  but  now  there  was 
danger  of  spilling  some  of  it.  Should  his  double- 
dealing  be  discovered,  he  stood  a  good  chance  of 
beating  both  of  these  enemies  to  the  Vale  of  the 
Thousand  Years. 

The  highbinder  is  merciless  when  he  discovers 
treachery  in  his  tong.  In  fact,  it  is  virtually  un- 
known, so  binding  is  his  oath  and  so  deep  his 
reverence  for  his  joss. 

96 


A  DRUG  ON  THE  MARKET 

Ming  was  but  a  passive  member  of  the  Hop 
Sings.  He  took  no  part  in  their  meetings,  and 
only  to  Louie  Toy  did  he  ever  speak  of  his 
membership.  He  wormed  many  of  their  secrets 
from  the  merchant  and  poured  them  into  the 
ears  of  Tom  Chong. 

His  craftiness  has  already  been  displayed,  for 
he  made  Detective  Bray  believe  that  Luk  Chan 
was  a  Hop  Sing  man,  with  the  result  that  the 
tong  was  being  carefully  watched  and  his  own 
was  allowed  more  opportunity  to  carry  out  its 
plans. 

But  the  reward  would  be  worth  all  the  danger. 
He  could  almost  make  up  his  mind  to  sacrifice 
Luk  Chan  and  let  Sen  Chee's  father  live.  Life 
with  the  girl  would  be  sweet,  but  then  his 
treasure-chests  would  be  heavily  lined  by  her 
father's  death,  for  she  was  the  only  living  rela- 
tive. Louie  had  no  cousins  even,  so  far  as  he 
could  learn. 

A  tong  war  would  be  a  serious  proposition. 
When  the  hatchet-men  got  to  demanding  a  life 
for  a  life  and  drawing  lots  for  victims  no  one 
knew  whose  turn  might  be  next.  He  was  known 
to  be  a  miser,  he  had  achieved  a  certain  degree 

97 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

of  prominence  as  keeper  of  a  gambling-house,  and 
his  friendship  with  Tom  Chong  was  no  secret. 

He  counted  on  the  interference  of  the  Police 
Devils  and  the  wrath  of  the  Chinese  Consul.  A 
timely  word  to  Sergeant  Bray  after  his  two  ene- 
mies were  disposed  of,  and  hostilities,  of  neces- 
sity, must  cease.  The  police  would  destroy  the 
josses,  would  break  up  the  meetings  (if  the 
proper  tips  were  given  them)  ;  then  he  would  give 
up  this  scheming  and  settle  down  to  a  life  of 
happiness  with  his  dear  Sen  Chee.  Sen  Chee! 
What  a  delightful  name  to  conjure  with.  He 
rubbed  his  hands  in  pleasure  and  spoke  a  word 
in  greeting  that  caused  his  assistants  to  stare  at 
him  in  astonishment  as  he  entered  the  fish-stall. 

He  took  off  his  hat,  threw  it  on  the  littered 
cover  of  a  crate,  and  coiled  his  queue  tightly  on 
top  of  his  head. 

Then  he  stripped  off  his  blouse,  pulled  on  a 
jersey,  and  wrapping  a  gunny-sack  about  his 
waist,  was  ready  for  business. 

Customers  began  to  drop  in  and  for  an  hour 
or  more  he  was  busy  weighing  fish  and  bartering 
with  the  chattering  Celestials. 

Along  toward  eight  o'clock  he  stopped  for  his 
98 


A  DRUG  ON  THE  MARKET 

frugal  meal  of  rice,  hastily  disposed  of  with 
chop-sticks,  and  as  he  pushed  back  his  chair  he 
saw  Sergeant  Bray  crossing  the  street. 

Ming  was  always  ready  for  a  chat  with  the 
detective,  so  he  took  up  his  hat  and,  as  he  stepped 
to  the  sidewalk,  put  it  on  his  head. 

Something  was  wrong!  A  bulging  object 
pressed  his  temple,  and  he  pulled  his  hat  off 
quickly.  In  an  absent  manner  he  turned  down 
the  sweatband  and  his  fingers  felt  a  flat  disk 
nestling  inside  the  brim. 

He  could  not  repress  a  squeal  of  terror  as  for 
the  third  time  he  saw  the  red  tiger-cat  snarling 
more  hideously  than  ever.  His  nerves  were 
completely  shattered,  his  presence  of  mind  was 
gone. 

He  gibbered  insanely  and  stared  at  Sergeant 
Bray  with  unseeing  eyes  as  the  detective  clutched 
his  hand  and  twisted  the  poker  chip  from  his 
fingers. 

"What  the  devil's  wrong?  Somebody  throw 
a  scare  into  you,  Ming?" 

The  old  Chinaman  did  not  answer.  He  was 
struggling  to  regain  his  wits.  He  stooped, 
picked  up  his  hat,  turned  it  over  aimlessly,  wiped 

99 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

the  beads  of  perspiration  from  his  forehead,  and 
swallowed  dryly  as  he  leaned  against  the  door- 
jamb. 

Bray  was  much  interested  in  the  disk.  He 
studied  the  crude  etching,  looked  over  his  shoul- 
der, then  laid  his  hand  on  Ming  Tai's  arm  and 
shook  him  roughly. 

"Come  out  of  it !  I  never  saw  you  f eazed  like 
this.  Where  did  you  get  this  thing^" 

Ming's  innate  craftiness  asserted  itself,  but  it 
took  will-power.  His  voice  was  husky  as  he  an- 
swered. 

"Oh,  ketchum  in  hat,  Sargen'.  Somebody 
play  jokee." 

"That's  too  thin.  This  is  no  joke,  Ming. 
That  cat  means  something." 

"No,  him  not  mean  nothing.  I  ketchum  piece 
in  till  yesterday,  I  throw  him  away.  Somebody 
pick  him  up  and  drop  him  in  hat  maybe." 

Ming's  voice  was  under  perfect  control. 

The  detective  eyed  him  coldly. 

He  was  grinning  in  his  familiar,  guileless  way, 
but  deep  in  his  pupils  lurked  a  shadow  of  fear. 

Bray  could  not  be  so  easily  fooled. 

"Some  highbinder's  after  your  scalp  and  you 

100 


A  DRUG  ON  THE  MARKET 

know  it.  Tell  me  about  it.  Ain't  I  your 
friend?' 

"Sure;  Sargen'  Blay  good  flen.  But  me  no 
think  highbinder  want  to  hurt  Ming  Tai.  Ming 
Tai  poor  man.  No  use  for  threaten  Ming  Tai." 
The  Chinaman's  subtlety  did  not  forsake  him. 

"Poor,  hell!  I  wish  I  had  one-tenth  of  your 
dough.  Say,  Ming,  come  across !  What  do  you 
make  of  it?' 

A  thought  struck  the  old  rascal. 

"Maybe  Luk  Chan  he  know.  Maybe  he  draw 
picture  of  tiger-cat." 

"What's  Luk  Chan  got  against  you?' 

Ming  appeared  to  hesitate  and  looked  at  his 
assistants  uneasily. 

"Come,  come!     Get  it  off  your  chest!" 

"Maybe  Luk  Chan  he  smuggle  ah-peen-yeen" 

"What!!!" 

"S-s-h!  Mustn't  talk  so  loud,  Sargen'  Blay. 
You  likee  ketchum  Chinaman  smuggle  opium." 

"Would  I  like  to  'ketchum"?  You  bet  your 
life !  You  put  me  on  to  the  lay,  Ming  Tai,  and 
I'll  make  it  worth  your  while.  But  what's  that 
got  to  do  with  the  poker  chip*?" 

"Well,  Luk  Chan  him  play  fan-tan  last  night. 


101 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

Him  go  bloke.  When  him  have  no  money,  he 
talkee  to  me  one  side,  he  say  ketchum  dope  by 
San  Mateo  to-night.  Him  want  me  to  buy  ah- 
rpeen-yeen" 

"Yes,  yes;  go  on!" 

"I  tell  him  no  can  do;  then  him  get  mad.  He 
say  keep  mouth  shut  or  maybe  him  kill." 

"Ah !  Luk  Chan  sent  the  chip  to  frighten  you, 
old  man." 

"I  think  so,  maybe." 

"Well,  we'll  fix  Luk  Chan  all  right.  Tell 
me  all  you  know  about  this  business  and  leave 
the  game  to  me.  You  needn't  worry  about  Luk 
Chan  for  the  few  years  you've  got  to  live,  if  your 
tip's  any  good." 

"You  come  back  room  my  shop,  Sargen'  Blay. 
This  not  good  pidgin  if  Luk  Chan  see  you  talkee 
with  me." 

The  detective  nodded  in  assent  and  accom- 
panied Ming  through  the  darkened  stall  and  into 
a  room  in  the  rear,  where  he  listened  to  a  story 
that  caused  his  eyes  to  glisten  and  elicited  several 
oaths  of  satisfaction. 

The  Chinaman's  brain  was  working  swiftly. 
There  was  a  plot  to  bring  in  a  small  lot  of  opium 

102 


A  DRUG  ON  THE  MARKET 

that  night,  and  Luk  Chan  was  concerned  in  it. 
If  he  could  get  his  enemy  stowed  safely  behind 
prison  bars  for  a  term  of  years,  his  plan  would  be 
simplified.  Sen  Chee's  lover  could  not  harm  him. 
He  did  not  have  overlong  to  live.  Her  father 
would  be  sacrificed,  for,  according  to  the  oaths  of 
his  tong,  another  would  take  up  the  hatchet- 
man's  task  and  Louie  Toy  would  not  live  out  the 
fortnight.  His  spirits  rose  as  he  whispered  with 
the  detective. 

He  unfolded  the  story  of  a  plan  in  which  he 
was  in  reality  the  chief  factor,  but  he  told  his 
tale  so  cunningly  that  the  slightest  suspicion 
would  never  be  attached  to  him.  He  anticipated 
conditions.,  and  Bray's  nerves  tingled  with  the 
joy  of  a  prospective  man-hunt. 

He  would  take  care  of  Ming  Tai,  and  Ming 
Tai  was  willing  to  stand  the  loss  of  his  share  of 
the  drug,  if  it  meant  prison  for  Luk  Chan. 

Ming's  plans  were  developing  rapidly. 

A  big  red  motor  car  chugged  impatiently  in 
front  of  the  Harbor  Police  Station. 
Sergeant  Bray  pulled  out  his  watch. 
"It's    ten-fifteen,"    he   said.     "Pile   in,    Mul- 
103 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

cahey.  We  ought  to  make  it  by  eleven. 
Twenty-five  miles  to  go,  and  the  night's  dark. 
Got  your  guns,  boys'?" 

He  was  answered  by  an  affirmative  chorus  and 
he  swung  into  a  seat  in  the  crowded  car. 

Besides  the  policeman,  who  acted  as  chauffeur, 
and  Officer  Mulcahey  there  were  four  picked 
men  from  the  customs  service, — Inspectors 
Stevens,  Head,  Lindquist,  and  Stone. 

They  carried  automatic  revolvers  and  were 
ready  for  business.  It  was  an  old  game  for 
them,  and,  though  the  United  States  Govern- 
ment has  long  since  ceased  giving  a  share  of  the 
proceeds  of  the  drug  to  its  men  who  risk  their 
lives  in  protecting  the  revenue,  no  other  thought 
than  the  fulfilment  of  their  duty  entered  their 
heads. 

Despite  the  darkness  they  made  good  time 
along  the  bay-shore,  and  it  was  but  a  few 
moments  after  eleven  o'clock  when  Detective 
Bray  grasped  the  driver's  arm  and  the  car  slowed 
up. 

"We  are  opposite  Monohan's  oyster-beds,"  he 
said.  "The  cache  can't  be  more  than  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  from  here.  You  stick  with  the  ma- 

104 


A  DRUG  ON  THE  MARKET 

chine,  Finn,  and  we'll  hike  the  balance  of  the 
way." 

"We  may  need  the  car  damned  quick,"  growled 
Mulcahey. 

Bray  ignored  him.  "When  you  hear  a  shot," 
he  continued,  "hit  the  high  spots.  We'll  prob- 
ably need  you." 

Silently  the  inspectors  piled  out  of  the  auto- 
mobile, and  like  shadows  six  men  stole  down  to 
the  beach.  The  road  wound  away  from  them, 
but  they  followed  the  water's  edge,  their  foot- 
steps making  no  sound  in  the  wet  sand.  The 
stars,  shining  faintly,  made  enough  light  on  the 
rippling  waters  of  the  bay  for  them  to  see  quite 
a  little  distance  ahead  of  them. 

At  last,  Bray,  in  advance,  spied  the  outlines  of 
a  shed  an  hundred  yards  up  the  beach. 

"That's  the  place,  boys,"  he  whispered. 
"Let's  make  the  rear  of  the  shack.  Thank  God, 
we're  on  time!" 

Separating,  they  crept  away  in  different  direc- 
tions, and  within  ten  minutes  were  all  huddled  to- 
gether behind  the  shed. 

They  whispered,  with  heads  close,  for  a  while, 
then  Lindquist  flattened  himself  on  his  stomach 

105 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

and  crawled  stealthily  along  the  wall  and  dis- 
appeared around  a  corner. 

Presently  a  muffled  tap  was  heard  inside. 
This  meant  that  the  coast  was  clear,  and  Bray, 
Mulcahey,  and  the  three  inspectors,  with  less 
caution,  hurried  to  the  front.  The  door  was 
open  and  they  joined  Lindquist  inside. 

From  the  dark  vantage-point  they  had  gained 
things  were  more  easily  discernible. 

Just  as  the  detective  was  about  to  speak,  In- 
spector Head  clutched  his  arm. 

"What's  that  on  the  beach?"  he  muttered. 
Straining  their  eyes,  they  made  out  a  dim  figure 
huddled  on  the  sand ;  and  as  they  looked  a  lantern 
flashed,  momentarily  outlining  the  form,  then 
was  hidden  from  view  beneath  the  man's  blouse. 

"It's  a  Chink  all  right,"  said  Stevens;  "I  saw 
his  queue." 

"The  lookout,"  chuckled  Bray.  "We've  got 
'em,  boys,"  and  he  fingered  the  butt  of  his  gun. 

They  lay  quietly  on  the  floor  for  at  least  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  when  a  sudden  sharp  intake  of 
Head's  breath  warned  them. 

Their  eager  eyes  caught  the  glint  of  a  light 
bobbing  in  the  bay  and  presently  they  made  out 

1 06 


A  DRUG  ON  THE  MARKET 

the  outlines  of  a  Chinese  fishing- junk,  with  its 
uncouth  lug-sail,  heading  in  toward  the  shore. 

The  Chinaman  on  the  beach  rose,  the  lantern 
glimmered  from  beneath  his  coat  and  was  swung 
once,  twice,  three  times,  about  his  head,  then 
quickly  doused. 

An  instant's  wait,  then  a  light  flashed  aboard 
the  junk. 

A  whispered  command  and  three  men  sprinted 
across  the  sand. 

A  frightened  Mongol  felt  sinewy  arms  twist 
about  his  waist,  but  before  he  could  cry  out  a 
palm  was  clapped  across  his  mouth  and  his  lantern 
was  snatched  from  his  hand.  Two  minutes 
afterward  he  was  lying  on  his  back  in  the  sand, 
stripped  of  his  blouse  and  tightly  bound  and 
gagged. 

Then  the  exultant  Bray  did  something  the 
wisdom  of  which  might  be  open  to  question.  He 
swung  the  lantern  about  his  head  three  times, 
thrust  it  beneath  his  coat  and  waited. 

He  cursed  impatiently,  then  smiled  as  an  an- 
swering signal  came  at  last  from  the  boat. 

He  hurried  back  to  the  building,  hooded  the 
lantern  in  a  corner,  and  slipped  into  the  China- 

107 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

man's  blouse.  He  put  on  the  slouch  hat  and 
went  back  to  the  water's  edge,  crouching  low  on 
the  sand. 

But  the  junk  was  an  interminable  time  in 
landing.  It  hung  off  shore  for  a  good  half-hour. 

If  the  detective's  eyes  could  have  penetrated  the 
gloom  he  might  have  seen  four  or  five  whisper- 
ing Celestials  leaning  over  the  rail  and  lowering 
heavily  weighted  lines.  They  might  have  been 
taking  soundings,  though  such  a  procedure  was 
unnecessary,  for  the  Chinese  fishing-junk  is  one 
of  the  shallowest  crafts  afloat  and  is  constructed 
especially  for  easy  grounding  on  the  beach. 

The  sail  flapped  idly,  but  at  last  it  was  brought 
about  before  a  light  wind,  and  the  boat  crept 
slowly  inshore. 

A  hundred  feet  from  the  beach  two  barefooted 
Chinese  leaped  overboard  and,  seizing  the  rail, 
helped  to  guide  it  through  the  lapping  waves  un- 
til the  keel  struck  softly  in  the  sand. 

There  was  a  low  hail. 

Bray  answered  it  in  a  reassuring  monosyllable 
and  shuffled  back  a  few  paces  up  the  beach. 

The  rest  of  the  boat's  crew  clambered  over  the 
rail  and  proceeded  to  business. 

108 


A  DRUG  ON  THE  MARKET 

A  score  of  boxes  were  lifted  out  and  deposited 
on  the  beach,  then,  as  one  of  the  men  turned 
away  and  walked  toward  the  shed,  the  detective 
whistled  shrilly. 

Six  officers  tumbled  through  the  door  and  tore 
for  the  water's  edge. 

There  was  a  sudden  Babel  of  frightened  voices, 
then  a  spit  of  flame  as  one  of  the  Mongols  fired 
at  the  leader.  Three  automatic  revolvers  cracked ; 
a  Chinaman  squealed  in  agony  and  plunged  for- 
ward on  the  sand. 

The  others,  demoralized,  were  seized  before 
they  could  put  up  a  fight,  and  by  the  time  the 
motor,  driven  like  mad  by  Finn,  chugged  to  a 
standstill  on  the  road  back  of  them  their  arms 
were  bound,  two  and  two  together,  and  they  were 
seated  in  sullen  silence  on  the  beach. 

Lanterns  were  lighted  and  the  inspectors  went 
gleefully  to  their  task. 

But  somewhere  a  cog  had  slipped. 

The  boxes  were  overturned,  one  by  one,  and 
their  contents  dumped  out.  They  were  filled 
with  shrimps,  and  though  the  tiny  shell-fish  were 
pawed  about  with  winnowing  fingers,  though 
they  were  raked  figuratively  with  a  fine-tooth 

109 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

comb,  there  was  nothing,  absolutely  nothing,  else 
in  the  boxes. 

Bray  kicked  a  prostrate  Chinaman  and  ques- 
tioned him  angrily,  but  elicited  only  a  guttural 
"No  Sabee!" 

He  flashed  his  lantern  in  the  faces  of  the  ter- 
rified creatures  until  he  singled  out  one,  calmer 
than  the  rest,  who  stared  back  at  him  ven- 
omously. 

He  grinned.  "Luk  Chan!  You're  the  Chink 
I'm  looking  for.  Where's  that  dope?" 

The  tong-man  tossed  his  head. 

"Dope!  What  you  mean?  We  fishermen. 
Shrimp-fishers.  What  for  you  try  to  kill?" 

"None  o'  that.  I'm  on  to  your  game.  You've 
got  a  bunch  of  ah-peen-yeen  and  I'm  after  it. 
Come  through,  or  it  will  go  hard  with  you.  I'll 
tear  your  old  junk  to  pieces  unless  you  save  me 
the  trouble." 

"Better  look  see.  I  say  we  shrimp-fishers. 
You  spoil  our  catch.  What  can  we  do?  We 
poor  men.  Nobody  will  pay." 

"Aw,  we're  wasting  time,  boys.  They've  got 
it  in  the  boat.  Go  to  it!" 

But  although  they  searched  in  every  nook  and 
no 


A  DRUG  ON  THE  MARKET 

cranny  of  the  shallow  craft,  tore  out  thwarts, 
pried  up  boards,  and  raked  the  ballast,  there  was 
never  a  sign  of  the  drug. 

They  went  through  the  prisoners'  clothes,  they 
questioned  them,  they  even  gave  them  a  taste  of 
the  "third  degree,"  but  without  avail. 

Detective  Bray  scratched  his  head  and  cursed 
the  ancestors  of  each  and  every  Chinaman  that 
cowered  in  the  sand,  but  he  did  not  have  a  leg 
to  stand  on,  and  he  knew  it. 

Ming  Tai's  name  trembled  on  his  lips,  he  was 
about  to  indulge  in  a  special  flight  of  profanity 
for  his  particular  case  when  he  realized  that  Luk 
Chan  was  eying  him  stolidly,  and  he  held  his 
tongue. 

"Mulcahey,  get  that  fellow  in  the  shed,"  he 
commanded. 

When  the  cowering  creature  was  brought  be- 
fore him  his  story,  as  much  as  could  be  gathered 
from  his  "pidgin"  English,  agreed  substantially 
with  what  had  been  told  by  the  rest.  They 
were  shrimp-fishers,  belated  by  the  wind  and  tide, 
and,  the  night  being  dark,  he  had  waited  on  the 
beach  to  light  his  comrades  to  their  landing- 
place. 

in 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

Bray  knew  that  there  was  something  amiss,  but 
he  did  not  have  the  goods. 

At  last,  in  disgust,  he  gave  the  order  to  re- 
lease the  prisoners,  and  their  bonds  were  cut  in 
silence. 

The  wounded  Chinaman  had  a  bullet  hole 
through  his  arm.  He  was  not  badly  hurt,  and 
when  Officer  Mulcahey  proposed  to  take  him  to 
the  emergency  hospital  in  their  machine,  he 
showed  a  knowledge  of  English  by  protesting  vio- 
lently. 

They  were  glad  enough  not  to  be  burdened 
with  him,  and  seven  very  crestfallen  men  climbed 
into  the  automobile,  and  had  very  little  to  say  as 
they  were  whirred  homeward. 

When  they  had  vanished  around  a  turn  in  the 
road  the  shrimp-fishers  displayed  a  sudden  ac- 
tivity. They  piled  into  the  junk,  after  they  had 
pushed  it  down  the  sand,  and  propelled  it  swiftly 
with  oars  and  sail  until  they  were  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  from  shore. 

Then  the  sail  was  lowered,  an  anchor  thrown 
overboard,  and  several  light  buoys  were  hauled 
in,  to  which  lines  were  attached.  Two  men  to 
each  line,  with  considerable  grunting,  brought  a 

112 


A  DRUG  ON  THE  MARKET 

heavy  weight  to  the  surface.    They  felt  safe  now. 

There  were  a  dozen  of  these  weights,  large 
bundles,  neatly  wrapped  in  oilskins. 

Detective  Bray  made  one  fatal  mistake  when  he 
repeated  the  signal  of  the  Chinese  sentinel. 

Luk  Chan  scented  something  amiss,  and  the 
cargo  was  temporarily  disposed  of.  At  the  ex- 
pense of  a  few  boxes  of  shrimps,  a  slightly 
wounded  helper,  and  a  delay  of  not  more  than  an 
hour,  he  landed  six  hundred  five-tael  tins  of 
opium  on  the  San  Mateo  shore. 


CHAPTER  VII 

LUCERO's  WARNING 

t'\\  7ATCH  Mulcahey!" 

V  V         Detective  Bray  turned  to  his  chief, 
with  a  look  of  surprise. 

"What's  that?" 

"I  said,  'Watch  Mulcahey.'  " 

"Why,  you  don't  suspect — " 

"Yes,  I  do.  There's  all  kinds  of  dope  been 
smuggled  into  Chinatown  the  last  three  months, 
and  you  haven't  caught  anybody  with  the  goods. 
What  does  it  mean?  Somebody's  tipping  them 
off." 

"That  might  be,  Chief.  But  Mulcahey's 
square.  He's  been  on  the  force  for  three  years 
and  his  record's  clean." 

"How  did  he  get  that  Chinatown  detail? 
Pull! — the  boss  gave  me  the  program  and  I 
couldn't  turn  him  down." 

"But  he's  always  been  right  there  with  the 
raids.  Why  he  shot  the  Chink  last  night  when 

114 


LUCERO'S  WARNING 

we  pulled  off  our  little  fiasco  down  at  San  Mateo. 
Damned  if  I  ain't  sore!  I  sure  thought  I  was 
going  to  put  one  over." 

"Yes,  and  the  boys  are  all  laughing  at  you. 
Those  Chinamen  were  not  shrimpers.  It's  a 
cinch,  Bray,  that  some  one  put  Jem  wise." 

"Anyway,  I  think  you  are  wrong  about  Mul- 
cahey,  Chief." 

"Well,  I  don't!  You  know  he's  got  the  fat- 
test beat  in  Chinatown  and  that  all  the  hop-heads 
are  hitting  the  pipe.  In  the  last  two  weeks  the 
price  of  dope  has  dropped  at  least  one-quarter. 
Now  what  does  that  mean?" 

"It  means  that  there's  lots  of  it  on  the  market." 

"Sure  it  does.  Can  you  depend  on  Ming 
Tai?" 

"I  feel  certain  that  he  is  square.  He  gave  me 
that  information  about  Luk  Chan  and  the  Hop 
Sings  digging  up  the  hatchet,  and  everything 
points  to  a  tong  war." 

"Well,  something's  wrong.  I've  been  in  this 
business  for  twenty-seven  years  and  I  wouldn't 
have  got  to  my  present  position  without  consid- 
erable knowledge  of  men.  You  know  I  don't  ob- 
ject to  a  lot  of  this  graft.  It's  necessary.  You 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

fellows  are  entitled  to  some  pickings.  But,  by 
God,  when  you  go  up  against  the  United  States 
Government  it's  a  different  story!  Wouldn't  it 
be  a  nice  state  of  affairs  if  some  of  these  Cus- 
toms Inspectors  got  the  goods  on  one  of  my 
coppers  and  put  him  over  for  smuggling?  Why, 
we'd  have  to  tie  the  old  city  up  tighter  than  a 
drum.  Now  you  get  at  the  bottom  of  this  damn 
quick." 

"But  what  makes  you  think  that  Mulcahey — " 

'Til  tell  you.  I  saw  a  little  item  in  the 
'Real  Estate  Transfers'  last  week  that  set  me 
to  thinking.  I  had  it  followed  up,  and 
found  that  Mul  had  bought  two  lots  out 
in  Sunset.  He  paid  cash,  too;  three  thou- 
sand dollars."  The  detective  whistled.  "Mul 
hasn't  saved  three  thousand  dollars  or  three 
thousand  cents  out  of  his  salary  as  a  patrol- 
man, that's  a  safe  bet.  I  don't  mind  him  stick- 
ing up  a  faro-bank  or  getting  some  saloon  graft 
once  in  a  while,  but  I  won't  stand  for  a  hop 
deal." 

"But  the  boss?  He's  a  mighty  good  friend  of 
yours,  and  he's  behind  Mulcahey." 

"I  don't  give  a  damn.  He'll  drop  him  like  a 
116 


LUCERO'S  WARNING 

hot  potato  if  we  catch  him  with  the  goods.  Now, 
Bray,  you've  been  square,  that's  why  you  are  a 
poor  man,  and  I  depend  on  you.  Keep  your  eye 
on  Mulcahey,  and  let  me  know  the  minute  you 
spot  anything." 

Chief  Marvin  turned  to  his  desk  and  picked 
up  a  letter. 

Bray  looked  at  him  a  moment,  shook  his  head 
doubtfully,  then  lit  a  cigar  and  went  out  into  the 
street. 

It  was  close  to  noon,  but  he  thought  he  would 
stroll  up  to  Chinatown  and  give  Ming  Tai  a  grill- 
ing before  dinner.  Besides,  Officer  Mulcahey 
went  on  duty  at  twelve  o'clock. 

Just  as  he  turned  into  Fish  Alley  he  saw  Luk 
Chan  coming  toward  him.  He  dodged  into  a 
doorway,  and  when  the  Chinaman  had  passed  he 
slipped  out  and  followed  him. 

If  he  had  been  a  trifle  more  wary  he  might 
have  noticed  a  small  Celestial  near  the  fish 
market,  who  started  slightly  when  he  saw  him 
and  who  immediately  dogged  his  footsteps  in 
turn. 

Luk  Chan  crossed  Dupont  street,  looked  into  a 
window  at  the  corner,  walked  leisurely  across 

117 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

Clay,  and  read  the  bulletins  displayed  there,  for 
five  minutes  or  more.  The  detective  hovered  in 
the  background  and  the  Mongol,  shadowing  him, 
stepped  into  a  hallway  and  fumbled  beneath  his 
blouse,  producing  a  piece  of  soiled  paper,  which 
he  concealed  in  his  hand. 

At  last  Luk  Chan  walked  leisurely  up  Clay 
street,  turning  into  Waverly  Place.  The  other 
Chinaman  took  a  short  cut  through  the  hallway 
and  darted  out  of  a  back  entrance  just  in  time  to 
see  him  enter  a  lodging-house  across  the  alley. 
Bray  had  not  yet  turned  the  corner. 

Luk  Chan  walked  down  a  long  corridor  and, 
as  he  placed  his  foot  on  the  lowest  step  of  a  nar- 
row stairway,  something  whirred  through  the  air 
and  lifted  his  hat  from  his  head.  It  fell  with  a 
soft  spat  on  the  stairs,  and  as  he  turned  with  a 
cry  of  alarm,  a  revolver  slipped  from  his  sleeve 
and  his  fingers  tightened  on  its  butt. 

The  hall  was  empty. 

Stooping,  he  picked  up  his  hat  and  bounded  up 
the  stairs. 

At  a  turn  in  the  corner  a  gas-jet  flared.  His 
eyes  widened  as  he  stared  at  his  hat  crown. 
Piercing  it  was  a  slender  stiletto,  with  a  blade 

118 


LUCERO'S  WARNING 

fully  nine  inches  long  and  a  mother-of-pearl 
handle.  He  drew  it  out,  trembling  slightly,  and 
a  twisted  piece  of  paper  close  to  the  hilt  rustled 
in  his  palm.  Wondering,  he  smoothed  it  against 
the  wall  and  by  the  flickering  gaslight  read  five 
scrawled  words  in  English,  "Beware;  Bray  is  fol- 
lowing you." 

He  was  mystified.  But  he  had  not  time  for 
the  solving  of  riddles. 

Action  was  the  thing. 

He  extinguished  the  light  and  ran  to  the  end 
of  the  hall.  He  tapped  on  a  door  and  when  it 
was  opened  darted  inside  and  locked  it  after  him. 
He  muttered  a  brief  sentence  to  the  astonished 
inmate,  then  threw  up  the  window  and  climbed 
out  onto  the  fire-escape.  He  looked  about  him, 
but  fortunately  Stockton  street  was  deserted.  He 
swung  over  the  railing,  made  a  ten  foot  drop,  and 
hurried  up  the  sidewalk  to  Sacramento.  He 
strolled  down  the  hill,  greeting  several  friends  on 
the  way,  went  up  Dupont  to  California,  passed 
St.  Mary's  Cathedral,  and  stepped  into  a  vacant 
lot  next  to  it,  back  of  a  broken  wall  of  a  build- 
ing that  had  never  been  razed  since  the  earth- 
quake. 

119 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

A  wooden  fence,  used  as  a  bill-board,  masked 
its  ugliness. 

A  furtive  glance  over  his  shoulder,  then  he 
crawled  under  it  and  dived  beneath  the  sidewalk. 
There  he  found  standing  space  and  a  brick  wall 
with  an  iron  door. 

He  fitted  a  key  to  the  lock,  the  door  clanged 
behind  him,  and  he  waited  in  darkness. 

A  half -hour  passed. 

Crouched  on  the  floor,  his  limbs  were  cramp- 
ing from  inaction,  when  there  was  a  sudden  creak- 
ing of  a  lock,  a  flash  of  light,  and  darkness  again. 

He  heard  the  heavy  breathing  of  the  intruder, 
but  he  remained  motionless. 

An  electric  torch  flooded  the  cubby-hole  with 
its  ray  and  Officer  Mulcahey  swore  at  him. 

"Why  the  hell  didn't  you  say  something.  I've 
been  watching  for  you  for  fifteen  minutes.  I 
thought  your  foot  had  slipped." 

Luk  Chan  stood  up. 

"I  was  followed,"  he  said  simply. 

"The  devil  you  say!     Who  was  it?" 

"Sergeant  Bray.  I  threw  him  off  my  trail, 
but  I  came  before  the  appointed  time." 

(The  Chinaman  had  been  educated  in  the 
120 


LUCERO'S  WARNING 

American  schools  and  did  not  attempt  the  subter- 
fuge of  "pidgin"  English  with  Officer  Mulcahey. 
Business  was  too  pressing.) 

They  were  in  a  small  octagonal  room,  with 
a  low  ceiling,  one  side  of  which  was  piled  high 
with  wooden  boxes,  over  the  topmost  of  which 
showed  the  upper  edge  of  a  closed  door.  The 
place  was  weird  and  suggestive  of  spooks. 

They  stood  below  the  steeple  of  St.  Mary's 
Cathedral,  and  the  little  storeroom  had  no  doubt 
long  ago  been  abandoned  and  its  existence  for- 
gotten by  the  changing  sextons. 

Officer  Mulcahey  took  off  his  helmet  and 
crossed  himself. 

"  'Tis  a  great  place  for  the  dope.  Safely  hid- 
den in  the  bosom  of  Mother  Church !  Sure  and 
it  seems  like  sacrilege." 

But  he  made  quick  peace  with  his  conscience 
by  the  act  of  veneration,  and  turned  to  business. 

"You've  got  a  hell  of  a  lot  of  it,  Luk  Chan. 
Do  you  think  Bray  is  on?" 

"No.  He  followed  me  because  he  saw  me  at 
the  fishing-junk  last  night.  Why  did  you  shoot 
Tom  Ming?" 

"Faith  and  I  couldn't  help  it.  Didn't  I  have 
121 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

to  make  good.  I  only  winged  him  anyway.  I 
didn't  shoot  to  kill." 

"True." 

"Well,  lave  it  go  at  that.  How  about  my 
divvy?" 

Luk  Chan  stepped  toward  the  boxes,  laid  his 
hand  on  one  of  them,  and  began  to  count  slowly 
in  Chinese. 

The  policeman  mopped  his  brow.  The  place 
was  stuffy. 

At  last  the  tong-man  spoke. 

"There  are  twenty  boxes  of  dh-peen-yeen, — a 
little  over  eight  hundred  pounds.  They  will  sell 
for  at  least  twelve  thousand  dollars  in  your 
money." 

"Whew!     That  sounds  good." 

"If  we  are  not  disturbed  they  will  be  sold  in 
two  weeks.  I  said,  'If  we  are  not  disturbed.' ' 

Mulcahey  nodded.  "I  understand.  Ye'll  not 
be  disturbed  if  I  live  out  the  two  weeks.  But 
how  about  my  end  of  it?" 

"Ten  per  cent.     That  is  our  agreement." 

"Sure,  twelve  hundred  dollars.  I'm  itchin'  to 
get  my  hands  on  it." 

The  Chinaman's  lip  curled.  He  held  an  utter 
122 


LUCERO'S  WARNING 

contempt    for    this   creature    that   circumstances 
made  it  necessary  for  him  to  deal  with. 

"How  do  I  know  that  you  will  play  fair*?  It's 
a  lot  of  money  and  something  might  happen  to 
you.  God  help  you  if  you  throw  me  down.  I'll 
put  the  chief  on  and  he'll  raid  every  joint  in 
Chinatown.  They  can't  connect  me  with  it. 
Nobody  would  believe  a  Chink  under  oath." 

Luk  Chan  straightened,  his  fingers  caressed  the 
revolver-butt,  and  for  an  instant  murder  gleamed 
in  his  eye.  But  he  conquered  the  impulse  and 
looked  steadily  at  Mulcahey. 

"Have  you  ever  known  one  of  my  race  to  break 
his  word?' 

Mulcahey  dropped  his  eyes  and  shifted  sheep- 
ishly as  he  pushed  back  his  helmet. 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,  but  I  can  use  that  money." 

"Will  you  take  a  thousand  dollars  as  your 
share,  in  cash?" 

"Sure!     In  a  minute." 

Without  a  word,  Luk  Chan  fumbled  at  the 
bosom  of  his  blouse  and  drew  out  a  roll  of  bills. 
He  stepped  in  front  of  the  policeman,  and  count- 
ing out  ten  one-hundred-dollar  greenbacks,  thrust 
them  into  his  hand. 

123 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

"You  see  we  trust  you,  even  if  you  are  not  of 
our  race,"  he  said  simply. 

The  policeman,  ashamed,  mumbled  an  apol- 
ogy. "You're  white  all  right,  Luk  Chan.  Sure, 
and  I  did  you  an  injustice.  I  hope  you  don't 
have  no  trouble  gettin'  rid  of  the  hop.  Leave 
it  to  me  to  give  you  the  tip  if  any  of  the  boys 
get  to  nosin'  around.  Say;  I'm  leery  of  the  chief. 
He's  a  wise  un,  and  we've  got  to  fix  it  up  pretty 
quick  to  pull  a  layout,  or  he'll  be  asking  ques- 
tions. Can't  we  cook  up  something  with  Ming 
Tai?  Ain't  there  some  Chink  who  ain't  got  any 
friends  that  we  can  catch  with  a  bunch  of  dope? 
Ming's  all  right;  he'll  stand  in." 

"I  am  not  sure.  I  fail  to  understand  the  raid 
last  night.  Ming  Tai  was  the  only  man  outside 
of  my  companions  who  knew  the  ah-peen-yeen 
was  to  be  brought  ashore.  How  did  Detective 
Bray  learn  our  secret*?  If  Ming  Tai  told  him,  he 
is  a  traitor.  If  Ming  Tai  was  playing  a  game 
on  him,  he  would  have  warned  me.  It  was  a 
close  call.  If  I  had  not  been  suspicious  of  the 
second  signal  of  the  lantern  I  would,  even  now, 
be  on  the  road  to  your  prison." 

"Gee,  but  you're  a  smart  Chink,  Luk  Chan! 
124 


LUCERO'S  WARNING 

I've  got  to  hand  it  to  you.  You  can  talk  better 
'American'  than  lots  of  our  coppers.  Why  ain't 
you  in  some  better  business  than  smuggling 
dope?" 

The  hatchet-man  smiled.  "In  the  eyes  of  my 
people,  I  do  no  wrong.  Your  people  make  laws 
for  themselves.  The  Chinaman's  customs  are 
sacred  to  him,  and  they  interfere  with  them.  He 
goes  his  own  way,  he  rights  his  wrongs,  he  does 
not  ask  for  help  from  you.  We  are  a  separate 
community.  Do  you  know  of  a  white  man  who 
has  ever  suffered  at  our  hands?" 

"No,  I  don't.  But  say;  I've  got  to  get  out  of 
here.  If  the  sergeant  misses  me  from  my  beat, 
I'll  go  on  the  carpet  sure.  What  the  devil  was 
that!" 

Luk  Chan  snatched  the  electric  torch  from  his 
hand  and  the  room  was  plunged  in  darkness. 

The  policeman's  knees  sagged  beneath  him. 
He  dropped  to  the  floor  with  a  whimper  of  fear 
that  was  stilled  as  he  felt  his  companion's  fingers 
sink  into  the  fleshy  part  of  his  arm. 

They  crouched  there  in  tense  silence,  and  after 
an  interval  their  straining  ears  heard  a  gentle 
scratching  on  the  door. 

I25 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

"My  God!  my  God!"  mumbled  the  white  man, 
but  the  yellow  one  clutched  his  revolver  and 
crawled  stealthily  to  the  panel.  He  pressed 
his  ear  against  it  and  listened.  A  half-dozen 
times,  at  intervals,  the  scratching  was  repeated, 
but  he  was  motionless. 

At  last  a  muffled  whisper  came  to  him,  "Luk 
Chan,  Luk  Chan;  amigo^  a  friend." 

Where  had  he  heard  that  voice  before?  The 
tone  was  familiar,  but  he  was  baffled.  Again  it 
came  a  little  louder,  "Amigo,  Luk  Chan, 
amigo" 

His  memory  groped  for  the  key,  then,  of  a 
sudden,  he  had  it. 

He  fumbled  for  a  moment  with  the  lock, 
opened  the  door  softly,  jerked  a  small  figure  into 
the  room,  and  pressed  the  button  of  his  electric 
torch. 

Juan  Lucero  cowered  on  the  floor  before  them, 
and  Mulcahey  stared  at  him,  jaw  hang- 
ing, hair  disheveled,  so  distraught  by  fear  that 
he  forgot  that  he  was  armed  and  might  easily  kill 
both  the  inmates  of  his  hiding-place  and  make  a 
clean  get-away,  had  he  so  minded. 

Luk  Chan  turned  to  him. 
126 


LUCERO'S  WARNING 

"Get  up!"  he  commanded,  and  there  was  a 
world  of  infinite  scorn  in  his  tone. 

The  policeman  stumbled  to  his  feet,  found  his 
helmet,  and  leaned  weakly  against  the  wall. 

The  tong-man  took  a  pearl-handled  stiletto 
from  his  girdle  and  handed  it  to  the  boy  on  the 
floor. 

"This  is  yours,"  he  said.  "There  is  a  bond 
of  gratitude  between  us.  You  need  have  no  fear. 
I  am  your  friend, — your  amigo.  Why  did  you 
follow  me  here  9" 

The  boy  caught  his  wrist  and  rose  slowly. 

"Oh,  si;  yes,  yes.  The  man  of  the  police  fol- 
low you.  Senor  Bray  he  walk  where  you  walk, 
but  he  not  see  Juan  Lucero.  I  am  afraid,  and 
I  throw  knife  to  warn  you,  me,  Juan  Lucero,  the 
great  Lucero;  I  throw  the  dagger  at  the  Hippo- 
drome, I  make  the  money  for  my  mujercita,  my 
Carlotta,  I  tell—" 

"Aw,  cut  it  out,"  snapped  Mulcahey  irritably. 
"What  the  devil  do  you  mean  sneakin7  after  me 
like  tins'?  I'll  put  you  in  the  jug,  I'll — " 

Luk  Chan  raised  his  hand  and  something  in 
his  eyes  commanded  obedience. 

"Leave  this  boy  to  me.  You  are  a  fool. 
127 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

Don't  you  know  that  he  has  saved  your  star, 
your  life  perhaps"?     Go  on,  amigo." 

Juan  looked  at  him  gratefully. 

"After  I  throw  the  knife  I  run  quickly  to  the 
corner.  I  see  you,  you  come  down  the  hill,  you 
go  past  the  Cathedral," — he  crossed  himself, — 
"you  vanish — so," — snapping  his  fingers, — "be- 
hind the  wall.  I  wait.  Pretty  queeck  Senor 
Bray  he  come  along.  He  look  like  maybe  he 
lost  something.  But  he  cannot  find.  I  hide  be- 
hind the  church.  Then  this  hombre,  he  come  too. 
He  go  behind  the  wall  where  you  go.  Senor 
Bray  he  gone  by  that  time,  he  not  see  him.  But 
I  wait — wait — wait  for  long  time,  and  you  not 
come.  I  think  maybe  you  are  kill  and  little 
Chinese  girl  she  be  sorry,  maybe  and  manana  she 
cry—" 

Luk  Chan  interrupted  him. 

"How  did  you  find  the  door?" 

"Well,  pretty  soon  I  am  excited  and  I  go  be- 
hind the  wall.  I  find  hole  in  sidewalk  and  I 
queeck  crawl  in,  then  I  scratch  the  door,  I  think 
maybe  I  can  help.  I  have  one  knife  more,  and 
I  not  want  little  Chinese  girl  to  cry." 

The  tong-man  turned  to  Mulcahey. 
128 


LUCERO'S  WARNING 

"You  see  the  boy  has  a  heart  of  gold,"  he  said. 

"The  murderin'  greaser  would  have  slipped  a 
knife  into  my  ribs." 

"I  think  he  would,"  drily. 

"But  what  are  we  going  to  do  with  him*? 
He'll  give  the  snap  away.  If  Bray  gets  hold  of 
him  I'm  gone." 

"You  can  leave  him  to  me.  He  owes  a  debt 
of  gratitude  to  one  of  my  race.  He  will  not  for- 
get it." 

"Si!  Sir  mumbled  Juan.  "But  I  almost  do 
forget.  I  come  to  look  for  you  when  I  see  Sefior 
Bray.  I  must  let  you  know  or  you  will  be  keel." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Ming  Tai!  You  think  him  amigo.  You 
make  mistake.  Ming  Tai  is  malo  hombre,  he  is 
one  bad  man.  He  will  hire  you  to  be  keeled. 
I  know;  I  hear.  Ming  Tai  makes  the  plot  against 
your  life." 

"How  do  you  know?" 

The  boy  dropped  to  his  feet,  sobbing  as  he 
buried  his  face  in  his  hands. 

"No!  No!  No!  I  must  not  tell.  You  must 
not  ask  me.  But  I  know.  I  know.  I  tell  you 
I  hear.  They  promise  that  you  be  keel." 

129 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

Luk  Chan  stood  like  a  statue,  but  beyond  the 
dilating  of  his  nostrils  he  showed  no  sign  of  emo- 
tion. 

Officer  Mulcahey  swore  suddenly. 

"Damn  your  soul;  you  will  tell!  We'll  put 
him  through  the  third  degree.  What  do  you 
think,  Luk  Chan?  If  Chief  Marvin  gets  him  in 
the  sweat  box  he'll  come  through  all  right." 

The  Chinaman  eyed  him  for  an  instant. 

"Are  you  insane?  You  forget  that  your  own 
hands  are  soiled." 

"Ah,  he  won't  dare  to  squeal  on  me.  No- 
body*d  believe  him.  There  ain't  nobody  got 
nothin'  on  me." 

"You  are  mistaken!  If  you  arrest  the  boy, 
your  chief  will  learn  that  you  are  a  smuggler  of 
opium." 

"Who'll  tell  him?" 

"I  will." 

"What!.*9 

"I  mean  what  I  say.  There  is  a  blood-bond 
between  Juan  Lucero  and  Luk  Chan.  The  Ori- 
ental does  not  reward  the  saving  of  his  life  with 
treachery.  If  Chief  Marvin  sees  this  cache  of 
ah-peen-yeen,  Officer  Mulcahey  himself  may  get 

130 


LUCERaS  WARNING 

a  taste  of  the  third  degree.  You  have  your  pay 
in  advance.  It  is  the  price  of  the  sealing  of  your 
eyes  and  ears.  And  do  not  take  my  warning 
lightly." 

The  policeman  shifted  uneasily. 

"But  what  the  h — 1  am  I  going  to  do?' 

"Go  back  to  your  beat  and  leave  the  boy  to 


me." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

PERFUME    OF    LILIES 

SEN  Chee  lay  on  her  couch. 
It  was  midafternoon  and  she  had  stolen  up- 
stairs after  an  hour  of  vain  watching  for  Luk 
Chan.  She  said  nothing  to  her  father  and. 
though  he  noticed  her  as  she  left  the  counter,  he 
forbore  questioning  her.  She  had  been  drooping 
of  late  and  he  thought  he  knew  the  reason  of 
it.  But  he  had  worries  of  his  own.  He  dreaded 
the  hour  when  Ming  Tai  would  claim  his  daugh- 
ter, but  the  affair  had  been  taken  out  of  his  hands. 
The  old  fish  dealer  had  proven  his  master. 

Well,  Sen  Chee  was  but  a  child.  She  would 
have  a  rich  husband  and  he  had  enough  of  the 
world's  goods  to  live  in  Peking  for  the  balance  of 
his  days.  He  would  be  a  mandarin,  wealthy  and 
respected,  and  Sen  Chee — bah!  he  would  forget. 
There  were  things  well  forgotten.  He  could  not 
remain  in  San  Francisco  alone.  The  girl  had 
been  his  one  comfort  in  life.  A  haunting  mem- 

132 


PERFUME  OF  THE  LILIES 

ory,  a  memory  of  a  young  Celestial  who  had  loved 
her  mother  and  who  had  disappeared  mysteriously 
many  years  ago,  was  ever  with  him. 

True,  it  had  faded.  He  had  dwelt  in  security, 
had  amassed  many  taels  and  become  a  power  in 
Chinatown.  But  it  had  returned  with  added 
poignancy  with  the  threat  of  Ming  Tai. 

He  would  wait  until  the  affair  was  settled,  then 
he  would  dispose  of  his  business  and  doze  away 
his  days  in  the  land  of  his  fathers. 

The  girl  tossed  restlessly. 

A  dull  pain  had  lingered  in  her  bosom  ever 
since  she  had  heard  the  plot  against  her  lover. 
She  knew  not  how  to  warn  him.  She  had  no  idea 
where  he  might  be  found.  There  was  no  one  in 
the  world  she  could  trust.  Wait!  The  Mexi- 
can boy  whom  her  father  had  befriended!  He 
had  often  looked  at  her  with  imploring  eyes,  the 
eyes  of  a  dog  wishing  to  show  its  gratitude  but 
denied  the  power  of  speech.  Then  she  knew  that 
he  had  had  something  to  do  with  Luk  Chan's  es- 
cape from  her  balcony,  and  he  had  kept  her  se- 
cret. She  thought  he  was  in  her  father's  packing- 
room  but  she  did  not  dare  to  go  to  him. 

The  act  would  be  questioned. 
133 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

The  superstition  of  her  race  mastered  her.  A 
name  danced  in  her  memory.  A  sudden  thrill 
of  hope  attended  it. 

Him  Yick  Jan.  Him  Yick  Jan,  the  herb-doc- 
tor, the  teller  of  fortunes.  A  dignitary  greatly  re- 
spected by  San  Francisco's  Celestial  population. 
He  had  cured  many  diseases  of  the  body  and  mind, 
His  prophecies  were  traditions  amongst  the  Chin- 
ese maidens ;  and,  though  the  daughters  of  the  up- 
per classes  do  not  mingle  so  freely  as  do  their 
American  sisters,  though  there  is  much  more  of  re- 
straint in  their  communion,  certain  secrets  are 
whispered,  and  tales  of  potent  love-philters  dis- 
pensed by  the  old  doctor  had  reached  her  ears. 

A  slight  color  flushed  her  cheeks. 

She  rose  and  changed  quickly  to  her  street  cos- 
tume ;  then  descended  the  stairs  and  walked  boldly 
past  her  father,  his  eyes  widening  as  she  left  his 
store. 

Many  of  the  Chinamen  stared  at  her  as  she 
passed  them  on  the  walk,  but  she  was  unaware  of 
their  glances. 

Opposite  the  market  of  Ming  Tai  she  hesitated 
for  a  moment  as  she  saw  the  old  fish  dealer  smok- 
ing his  pipe  in  the  sun.  But  it  was  too  late,  he  had 

134 


PERFUME  OF  THE  LILIES 

seen  her.  Dropping  her  eyes,  she  walked  to  the 
plaza,  turning  into  the  little  street  at  its  eastern 
end,  and  halting  before  a  house  built  in  the  Ori- 
ental style,  with  gilded  cupolas  and  gaudily 
painted  balconies  hung  with  Chinese  lanterns, 
over  the  door  of  which  were  many  scrawling  char- 
acters in  her  native  tongue. 

Ming  Tai's  pipe  was  suddenly  neglected.  He 
hurried  to  the  corner,  peered  stealthily  about  an 
angle  of  the  wall  until  he  saw  the  girl  stop  at 
the  herb-doctor's  door. 

Then  intuition  seized  him  and  he  scuttled  back 
to  Fish  Alley.  Passing  his  store,  he  trotted  along 
the  little  street  to  a  narrow  entrance  about  mid- 
way of  the  block  and  dived  inside. 

In  a  room  heavily  draped  with  Oriental  hang- 
ings, a  very  old  man,  garbed  in  mandarin  robes, 
bent  over  a  table.  He  had  a  knife  in  his  hand, 
and  with  its  blade  was  crumbling  into  a  fine 
powder  tiny  bits  of  a  substance  resembling  chalk, 
which  he  was  depositing  in  little  glass  vials.  As 
each  was  filled  he  moistened  a  colored  label  and 
wrapped  it  deftly  around  the  bottle.  Along  one 
side  of  the  room  was  a  row  of  shelves  filled  with 

135 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

jars  containing  herbs  and  medicines,  many  of 
which  are  beyond  our  Caucasian  ken. 

Some  of  them  held  ginseng^  the  precious  root 
so  venerated  by  all  Chinese,  whose  value  is  de- 
termined by  its  resemblance,  or  fancied  resem- 
blance, to  the  human  form.  The  nearer  it  attains 
perfection,  the  higher  is  its  price;  and  the  best 
pieces  are  shipped  from  China  wrapped  in  cotton 
wool  and  packed  more  carefully  than  the  most 
fragile  articles  of  Satsuma  or  Cloisonne  ware. 

There  was  Sesamun  seed,  from  which  a  power- 
ful oil  is  made.  There  were  dried  lizards,  flat- 
tened out  against  the  sides  of  their  jars  in  loath- 
some hideousness;  bean-sticks;  Narcissus  root, 
Caladium  bulbs;  tiger's- teeth,  which,  when 
ground  to  powder,  were  supposed  to  instil  fero- 
cious fighting  power  in  the  bosoms  of  the  tong- 
men;  tiny  cuttle  fish;  ground  taros;  sliced  pume- 
los;  loongan,  the  preserved  meat  of  the  lychee 
nut;  water-chestnuts;  herbs  and  powders  innum- 
erable; pills  of  gigantic  size  and  indescribable 
hue;  water-snakes,  preserved  in  alcohol;  spiders 
even,  and  little  brown  water-dogs,  with  yellow 
bellies  upturned. 

The  place  was  creepy,  and,  though  the  sun 
136 


PERFUME  OF  THE  LILIES 

was  shining,  its  shades  were  tightly  drawn,  and 
Him  Yick  Jan  worked  beneath  a  green-shaded 
gas-lamp. 

The  old  doctor  mumbled  indistinguishable 
phrases  in  a  cracked  voice  as  he  mixed  the  pow- 
der and  stopped  at  frequent  intervals  to  adjust 
the  absurd  horn-rimmed  spectacles  that  threat- 
ened constantly  to  fall  off  his  nose.  He  was  old, 
older  than  Ming  Tai,  older  than  the  oldest  deni- 
zen of  Chinatown;  but  an  easy  living  and  his 
knowledge  of  medicine  had  kept  his  faculties 
alert.  His  scanty  hair  was  white, — there  was  a 
scraggly  tuft  on  his  chin,  a  tenuous  wisp  on  his 
lip,  and  his  queue,  braided  tightly,  hung  like  a 
rat's  tail  from  beneath  his  mandarin  cap,  in  the 
coral  button  of  which  was  set  a  large  pearl. 

There  remained  but  two  or  three  of  the  vials 
to  be  filled  when  the  jangling  of  a  bell  caused 
him  to  raise  his  head  and  blink  solemnly.  He 
seemed  loath  to  move.  He  was  imperturbable,  be- 
yond starting;  but  this  was  the  call  of  business. 
It  meant  a  tael  or  two  in  his  coffers.  His  avarice 
had  grown  with  years  of  hoarding.  Slowly  he 
shuffled  to  the  door  and  entered  a  dim  waiting 
room.  Opening  its  door  in  turn,  he  ushered  in 

137 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

a  timid  Chinese  maid,  who,  at  his  command, 
seated  herself  nervously  on  the  edge  of  an  ebony 
stool. 

Before  he  could  question  her  he  heard  another 
summons.  A  short,  whirring  buzz  in  the  labora- 
tory where  he  had  been  working. 

Excusing  himself  he  left  his  visitor,  crossed 
the  room,  and  went  into  a  hallway.  He  admitted 
another  Chinaman  at  a  rear  entrance, — an  old 
man,  too, — who  whispered  to  him  in  an  eager 
tone. 

What  he  said  roused  the  old  doctor  to  action. 
He  nodded  briskly,  rubbed  his  palms  together, 
and  at  last  led  the  newcomer  into  the  room  of  the 
jars.  He  laid  his  finger  on  his  lips,  then  went 
back  to  the  girl. 

She  had  never  seen  Him  Yick  Jan.  He  had 
never  laid  eyes  on  her,  yet  his  first  words  filled 
her  with  a  superstitious  awe. 

"Why  has  the  daughter  of  Louie  Toy  come  to 
consult  me?" 

He  knew  her !  This  reader  of  the  future  must 
be  all-powerful.  He  might  tell  her  what  she 
wished  to  know;  aye,  more  even. 

She  shivered,  but  did  not  answer. 
138 


PERFUME  OF  THE  LILIES 

"What  is  your  ailment,  little  Sen  Chee?  I 
have  drugs  for  them  all." 

She  continued  to  stare  at  him  mutely,  and  at 
last  he  bent  over,  taking  a  wrist  in  either  hand 
and  pressing  knotted  fingers  on  her  pulses,  which 
throbbed  with  presentiment. 

He  was  silent  for  a  full  minute,  peering  at  her 
with  gimlet  eyes  that  looked  uncanny  behind  his 
quaint  spectacles.  She  felt  that  he  was  reading 
her  soul  secrets  and  she  shrank  beneath  his  gaze, 
but  he  spoke  soothingly. 

"It  is  a  heart  ailment,  little  Sen  Chee,  but  it 
is  not  beyond  curing.  Your  pulses  tell  me  that 
your  bosom  is  disturbed,  that  distressing  tremors 
thrill  you.  Is  it  not  so?" 

She  raised  her  head  appealingly.  Still  clasp- 
ing her  wrists,  he  commanded  her  with  his  eyes. 

"Is  it  not  so,  Lily  Flower?' 

Her  answer  was  an  almost  imperceptible  nod, 
and  he  went  on: 

"Do  you  seek  forgetfulness4?  A  tiny  vial  of 
powdered  lotus  root  will  remove  all  unpleasant 
memories  of  the  past  and  bring  dreams  of  a  happy 
future.  It  will  banish  unpleasant  thoughts;  you 
will  forget  the  lover  that  has  proved  untrue,  you 

139 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

will  cease  to   remember  the  existence  of — Luk 
Chan!" 

With  a  cry  of  alarm,  she  jerked  her  hands  from 
his  grasp  and  half  rose,  but  he  laid  his  palm  on  her 
shoulders  and  forced  her  gently  back  upon  her 
seat. 

"Do  not  be  alarmed,  Sen  Chee.  Him  Yick 
Jan  knows  the  world's  secrets.  His  old  eyes  peer 
behind  the  veil.  He  is  all-powerful.  With  po- 
tent herbs,  he  holds  the  mastery  of  Life  itself. 
Would  you  destroy  an  enemy,  possess  the  heart 
of  a  lover,  or  read  the  story  of  your  future  years, 
you  have  but  to  whisper  your  wishes  and  to  pay 
my  fee.  Your  confidences  will  go  with  me  to 
the  vale  of  Death.  But  your  happiness  may  be 
assured.  Come,  shall  I  mix  a  powder  of  some 
potent  drug  to  dull  your  sorrow,  or  shall  I  un- 
fold the  chart  of  futurity  to  your  eyes'?" 

She  looked  at  him  timorously,  but  he  raised  his 
hand  and  smiled. 

"Your  eyes  tell  me,"  seductively,  again  hold- 
ing her  hand. 

"Sen  Chee  would  know  if  love  attends  the 
days  to  come.  Her  heart  is  young,  it  cries  out 
for  a  mate.  I  will  fetch  the  stone." 

140 


PERFUME  OF  THE  LILIES 

He  glided  away,  closing  the  door  noiselessly 
behind  him,  and  she  sat  in  a  daze  until  his  return. 

He  lighted  a  lamp  with  a  rose-colored  globe 
of  ground  glass  and  laid  a  small  block  of  mottled 
onyx  on  the  stand  beside  it. 

"Come  closer,  little  daughter,"  he  commanded, 
"and  we  will  consult  the  oracle." 

Impelled  by  some  strange  influence  that  he  pos- 
sessed, and  soothed  by  the  lamp's  soft  ray,  she 
slowly  rose  and  moved  to  his  side,  bending  over, 
as  with  a  trembling  finger  he  traced  imaginary 
outlines  on  the  stone. 

"I  see  a  tong-man's  head,"  he  murmured. 
"Look !  There  is  the  outline  of  the  forehead  and 
the  nose."  Then  he  rubbed  his  palm  over  the 
smooth  surface  with  an  impatient  gesture. 

"But  there  is  a  cloud  across  it."  He  traced 
the  lines  again.  "Ever  the  cloud!  It  portends 
evil."  She  shuddered. 

"Be  patient,  child.     I  see  no  evil  for  thee." 

He  mumbled  low  and  moved  his  forefinger 
about  the  onyx  block  in  indecisive  hesitance. 

At  last  he  ceased  abruptly. 

"The  tong-man  vanishes,  Sen  Chee.  You  will 
not  see  him  again !" 

141 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

Her  breath  came  in  a  short  gasp  of  anxiety. 

"Do  not  sorrow,  Lily  Flower.  The  lamp 
shows  a  rose-tinted  future." 

He  traced  rapidly  again. 

"I  see  another  man,  an  older  one.  A  man  of 
wealth.  And  the  outlines  of  a  woman's  head 
stand  out  closely.  See,  Sen  Chee.  The  face  is 
your  own.  It  is  dim  to  you  but  plain  to  my  ac- 
customed eyes.  I  see  your  husband,  Sen  Chee. 
Not  the  tong-man  that  your  fancy  dwells  on,  not 
the  lover  that  you  think  is  true,  but  another,  more 
worthy,  who  will  make  you  happy  through  the 
years." 

She  clutched  his  arm. 

"But  Luk  Chan,  does  he  live?' 

"He  lives,  Sen  Chee.  But  he  is  faithless.  He 
has  forgotten  the  little  maid  who  fell  a  victim  to 
his  desiring  eyes.  Even  now  his  plans  are  laid. 
He  will  abandon  her  without  a  parting  thought. 
He  sails  for  the  Kingdom  of  Flowers  on  the  great 
black  steamer  within  the  fortnight, — and  he  takes 
a  wife  with  him." 

He  felt  her  hand  tremble  beneath  his  shoulder 
and  a  twinge  of  remorse  seized  him,  but  it  was 
quickly  forsaken. 

142 


PERFUME  OF  THE  LILIES 

"No,  no !  The  stone  lies.  Tell  me  that  it  is 
not  true!" 

"It  is  the  truth,  Sen  Chee.  The  sacred  stone 
is  infallible.  But  you  will  soon  forget.  I  see  a 
happy  future." 

She  swayed  and  he  rose  quickly,  helping  her 
to  her  seat. 

"Shall  I  prepare  the  drug  that  will  bring  for- 
getf  ulness  ?"  he  questioned. 

She  shook  her  head  and  he  stood  before  her, 
waiting. 

At  last  she  forced  her  wits  to  action,  fumbled 
in  a  tiny  silken  bag  that  hung  from  her  wrist 
and,  producing  a  coin,  pressed  it  in  his  palm. 

He  spoke  to  her  unctuously,  but  she  rose,  of 
a  sudden,  and  before  he  could  interfere  hurried 
to  the  door  and  slipped  out  into  the  hall. 

He  smiled,  then  turned  away  and  entered  his 
laboratory. 

Ming  Tai  sprang  from  his  chair  and  questioned 
him  eagerly. 

"It  was  well  that  I  was  forewarned,"  he 
answered.  "Louie  Toy's  daughter  carries  a 
heavy  heart  to  her  home." 

They  whispered  together  for  a  time  and  Ming 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

interrupted  him  frequently  with  low  chuckles  of 
pleasure. 

When  the  tale  was  ended  the  old  fish  dealer  de- 
parted in  high  glee,  and  Him  Yick  Jan  caressed 
a  gold  coin  lovingly  as  he  turned  to  the  refilling 
of  his  vials. 

Instinct  alone  guided  Sen  Chee  back  to  her 
father's  store.  Her  eyes  noted  never  a  passer-by, 
but  constantly  before  them  danced  the  vision  of 
an  old  fortune-teller  and  a  fateful  stone.  When 
she  reached  the  Canton  Bazaar  she  hurried  to  her 
room  and  sobbed  out  her  agony  on  her  silken 
pillows. 

Hours  passed,  and  she  was  roused  at  last  by  a 
summons  to  her  evening  meal.  Mechanically 
she  partook  of  food  and,  when  she  had  finished, 
sought  her  couch  again. 

The  evening  waned,  the  old  clock  in  the  Ca- 
thedral tower  struck  nine,  and  its  last  reverbera- 
ting peal  roused  her. 

A  plan  that  had  been  hovering  in  her  mind  took 
sudden  form,  and  she  sat  up  on  the  edge  of  the 
bed.  It  was  a  sin,  one  of  the  most  unpardonable 

sins  of  her  race. 

144 


PERFUME  OF  THE  LILIES 

It  meant  soul-punishment  for  a  thousand  years. 
A  thousand  years  her  soul  would  writhe  in  tor- 
ture, but  it  would  be  purged  at  last.  What 
were  a  thousand  years  in  the  reckoning  of  Eter- 
nity? What  were  a  thousand  years  of  soul-tor- 
ment to  the  bodily  suffering  of  the  present,  the 
living  ages  of  hideous  heart-pain?  Luk  Chan 
was  faithless, — Luk  Chan,  who  had  whispered 
vows  that  shattered  all  the  defenses  of  her  love. 
This  was  more  than  she  could  stand. 

Quickly  she  ran  to  her  windows,  closed  them 
and  fastened  them,  but,  for  some  unknown  reason, 
she  forgot  to  lock  her  door.  It  was  closed,  and 
being  distraught,  she  thought,  no  doubt,  the  bolt 
was  thrown. 

A  gas-fixture,  with  three  jets,  depended  from 
the  ceiling,  directly  over  her  bed. 

She  stood  for  a  while,  staring  into  vacancy. 
Her  apartment  was  distant  from  the  sleeping 
chamber  of  her  father.  She  would  be  undis- 
turbed. 

The  store  would  not  be  closed  until  midnight. 
Long  before  that  hour  she  would  be  past  all 
human  aid. 

A  light,  despairing  sob,  then  she  reached  up- 
145 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

ward  and  opened  the  cocks,  throwing  herself  on 
her  couch  as  the  poisonous  gas  escaped  through  its 
vents. 

Its  odor  assailed  her  nostrils,  it  was  disagree- 
able at  first,  but  after  several  minutes  had  passed 
she  failed  to  notice  it.  Her  head  seemed 
lighter,  her  heart  throbbed  madly,  she  rose  and 
fell  on  little  billowy  waves,  strange  thoughts 
danced  through  her  brain.  Thoughts  of  Luk 
Chan,  of  his  strong  arms  embracing  her  closely,  of 
the  evening  on  her  balcony  when  she  had  hidden 
him  behind  her  chair. 

Her  heart  beat  faster  and  faster,  distantly  she 
heard  the  old  clock  chime  the  half -hour.  Why, 
it  was  not  hard,  this  slipping  into  the  Vale  of  the 
Thousand  Years.  What  was  the  strange  per- 
fume that  she  breathed?  Was  it  the  scent  of 
lilies'?  Yes;  that  was  it.  The  fragrance  of  the 
crushed  blossom  that  she  had  given  Luk  Chan. 
He  stood  before  her,  the  faded  petals  were  hid- 
den beneath  his  blouse;  he  leaned  over,  she 
pressed  her  face  against  his  bosom  and  drew  a 
deep  inhalation  of  its  incense.  Something 
throbbed  like  a  trip-hammer  in  her  temples;  the 
world  rolled  out  from  under  her;  she  felt  herself 

146 


PERFUME  OF  THE  LILIES 

falling,  falling,  falling  through  space;  her  lips 
parted,  she  tried  to  call  her  lover's  name,  but 
failed;  a  little  broken  sigh;  then  oblivion  draped 
her  with  the  shadow  of  Eternity. 

Luk  Chan  sat  in  the  darkness  in  a  lodging- 
house  in  Waverly  place.  There  was  a  price  on 
his  head,  but  he  took  no  thought  of  his  danger. 
Sen  Chee's  image  thrilled  him.  He  longed  to 
clasp  her  in  his  arms,  to  fly  with  her  to  some 
foreign  country  where  the  vengeance  of  his  tong 
could  not  reach  him. 

His  blood-oath  commanded  her  father's  death. 
Was  there  no  way  out  of  it4?  His  chin  sank  on 
his  bosom,  a  faint  perfume  was  wafted  to  his 
nostrils.  He  drew  a  faded  Narcissus  blossom  from 
his  blouse  and  pressed  his  face  close  against  his 
palms. 

The  call  of  the  lily  was  insistent. 

His  mind  was  made  up,  he  would  visit  Sen 
Chee's  balcony. 

Thrusting  the  token  back  into  its  resting-place, 
he  went  out  into  the  night. 

Just  before  he  reached  the  joss-house  he  recog- 
nized a  skulking  Chinese  figure  and  spoke  sharply. 

147 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

It  was  the  Mexican,  Juan  Lucero,  and  together 
they  went  into  the  building. 

The  temple  was  deserted  and  they  passed 
through  it  quickly.  Climbing  the  stairs  to  a  nar- 
row attic,  they  mounted  a  ladder  and  crawled 
through  an  open  scuttle  onto  the  roof. 

Luk  Chan  laughed  as  he  saw  a  bamboo  pole 
lying  close  against  the  coping,  where  he  had  left 
it  after  his  first  visit. 

He  peered  over  the  edge.  The  balcony  was 
deserted. 

Muttering  some  low  directions  to  Lucero,  he 
lowered  the  pole  until  it  rested  beneath  Sen 
Chee's  casement. 

The  Mexican  steadied  it  as  he  slid  downward, 
then  drew  it  up  and  waited  on  guard. 


148 


L 


CHAPTER  IX 

A  RUNNING   FIGHT 

UK  CHAN  listened  at  Sen  Chee's  window  for 
a  while,  then  he  tapped  lightly  on  the  pane. 
He  drew  back,  flattening  himself  against  the  wall, 
but  several  minutes  passed  and  his  signal  was 
not  answered.  The  night  was  dark.  There  was 
no  moon,  and  but  a  dim  starlight.  Still,  he 
could  discern  the  outlines  of  near-by  objects.  He 
could  see  the  majolica  flower-pots  on  their  rail, 
and  the  scent  of  the  nodding  lilies  soothed  him. 
He  would  be  patient.  Perhaps  his  sweetheart 
was  still  in  her  father's  store.  He  looked  up, 
and  thought  he  saw  Lucero's  head  above  the  cop- 
ing of  the  joss-house  wall. 

He  whispered  a  low  sentence  of  warning  and 
the  head  disappeared.  At  last  he  went  to  the 
window  again  and  tapped  more  loudly.  All  was 
silence.  He  grew  uneasy.  A  feeling  of  disap- 
pointment seized  him.  Somehow  he  had 

149 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

imagined  that  the  girl  waited  nightly  on  her  bal- 
cony for  him,  and  his  vanity  had  a  fall. 

The  curtains  were  partly  drawn,  and  he  shook 
the  window,  softly  calling  her  name.  Then  he 
lowered  his  head,  trying  to  peer  through  the 
panes.  He  pressed  his  face  close  to  the  glass  but 
his  eyes  could  not  penetrate  the  blackness. 

A  sudden  determination  seized  him  and, 
stealthily,  he  tried  to  raise  the  frame.  He  would 
slip  into  her  chamber  and  leave  some  token  on 
her  pillow  that  would  tell  of  his  visit.  Perhaps 
she  would  be  sorry  that  she  had  not  watched  for 
him;  perhaps  not.  The  heart  of  a  lover  ever 
sees  the  evil  side.  Perhaps  she  had  forgotten 
him.  Well,  his  visit  would  not  be  repeated.  He 
had  risked  his  life  to  come  to  her,  and  she  either 
slept  soundly  or  waited  for  belated  customers  in 
her  father's  store.  It  was  no  place  for  her.  She 
should  be  in  her  chamber.  What  if  she  were 
there  ?  She  might  waken  and  cry  out  in  her 
fright  before  she  recognized  her  visitor.  It  was 
a  foolish  thought.  He  would  go  back  to  the 
joss-house  and  send  a  message  by  Lucero.  An- 
other night  she  might  condescend  to  take  the  air 
on  her  balcony. 

150 


A  RUNNING  FIGHT 

He  turned  to  the  rail,  but  some  impelling  force 
mastered  him  and,  with  a  low  exclamation,  he 
wheeled  to  the  window  again  and,  drawing  a 
clasp-knife  from  his  pocket,  worked  its  blade 
through  the  slit  between  the  frame,  in  an  en- 
deavor to  spring  the  catch. 

He  fumbled  with  it  unsuccessfully  for  a  time, 
then  stopped  all  of  a  sudden.  His  nostrils  had 
caught  the  scent  of  escaping  gas  as  he  held  his 
face  close  to  the  crack. 

A  hideous   fear  seized  him. 

Could  it  be  possible  that  there  had  been  an 
accident?  No;  surely  Sen  Chee  was  not  in  her 
chamber.  But  his  great  love  swept  caution  away 
on  a  wave  of  anxiety. 

He  drew  his  revolver  and  struck  its  butt 
sharply  on  the  window  pane.  As  the  broken 
glass  fell  in  tinkling  bits  upon  the  sill  a  poison- 
ous vapor  poured  out  through  the  opening. 

He  thrust  his  hand  through  the  jagged  hole, 
taking  no  heed  of  a  gashed  wrist,  unfastened  the 
catch,  and  threw  up  the  window.  He  sprang  in- 
side, knocking  over  a  chair  and  striking  his  knees 
against  the  foot  of  Sen  Chee's  couch,  while  his 
head  swam  from  the  noxious  inhalation.  He 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

stretched  out  a  trembling  hand  and  felt  the  girl's 
limp  form.  Throwing  his  arms  around  her,  he 
lifted  her  and  staggered  to  the  sill. 

When  he  had  borne  her  into  the  air  he  deposited 
her  tenderly  on  the  little  wicker  seat  in  one  cor- 
ner of  the  balcony  and  leaned  over,  breathing  her 
name  in  fierce  whispers  and  calling  on  his  Joss  to 
bring  her  back  to  life.  He  chafed  her  hands  and 
slapped  her  wrists,  tore  her  blouse  loose  at  the 
bosom,  even  opened  her  lips  and  pressed  his  own 
close  to  them  in  a  frantic  endeavor  to  force  breath 
into  her  lungs.  But  she  lay  limp  in  the  starlight, 
and  his  heart  was  bursting  with  despair.  Her 
arms  fell  as  he  released  them  and  her  fingers 
trailed  lifelessly  on  the  balcony  floor.  A  sob 
broke  from  the  tong-man's  lips.  Tears  filled  his 
eyes.  He  had  never  known  fear.  He  had  faced 
his  enemies.  A  price  had  been  set  upon  his 
head  in  the  last  highbinder  war,  but  this  was  the 
first  time  in  all  his  life  that  he  had  shed  a  tear. 

She  had  gone  to  the  Vale  of  the  Thousand 
Years.  She  had  destroyed  her  body  and  her  soul. 
She  was  braver,  far  braver  than  he.  A  despair- 
ing thought  struck  him.  He  could  join  her. 
Her  father  would  be  spared,  for  a  time  at  least, 

152 


A  RUNNING  FIGHT 

and  he  could  dwell,  blood-guiltless,  with  his  loved 
one  through  the  thousand  years  of  soul -torment. 

He  picked  up  his  revolver.  He  had  dropped 
it  beneath  the  window  when  he  broke  the  pane. 

He  mumbled  a  brief  incantation  to  his  Joss, 
bent  over  and  laid  his  head  on  Sen  Chee's  bosom, 
and  pressed  the  muzzle  against  his  side. 

The  hammer  cocked  itself  slowly  under  the 
pressure  of  his  finger,  then  suddenly  the  gun  was 
hurled  to  one  side  and  he  leaped  to  his  feet,  lift- 
ing the  girl  roughly  in  his  arms. 

As  he  faltered  there  on  the  borderland  of  Eter- 
nity his  ear,  pressed  against  her  breast,  had  heard 
a  faint  pulsation  of  the  heart  that  told  him  that 
his  dear  Sen  Chee  still  lived. 

He  shook  her  roughly,  then  threw  her  back  into 
the  chair  and  snatched  her  from  it  again;  he 
seized  her  arms  and  raised  them  above  her  head, 
pumping  them  up  and  down. 

He  implored  her  to  come  back  to  him,  he  called 
her  all  the  endearing  names  in  the  Chinese  tongue. 
He  cast  caution  to  the  winds  and  took  no  thought 
of  the  loudness  of  his  tones.  He  even  cried  out 
in  happiness  as  he  felt  a  flicker  of  breath  against 
his  face  while  he  bent  eagerly  over  her. 

153 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

Exultantly  he  snatched  her  to  him  and  held 
her  close,  striding  up  and  down  the  little  bal- 
cony and  swinging  her  from  side  to  side,  crooning 
to  her  as  if  she  were  an  infant  in  his  strong 
arms. 

At  last  his  straining  eyes,  burning  above  her 
closed  ones,  saw  an  almost  imperceptible  flutter 
of  her  lashes,  and  hope  restored  his  scattered 
senses.  He  carried  her  to  her  chair  once  more, 
lowered  her  carefully  into  it,  and  dropped  to  his 
knees  beside  her,  holding  her  hands  tightly  as  he 
bent  over  her  pallid  face. 

At  last  he  had  his  reward,  for  her  lids  opened 
slowly;  but  the  eyes  that  looked  into  his  were 
vacant  and  unseeing.  She  closed  them  again  and 
her  bosom  rose  and  fell  as  her  lips  parted  in  a 
tremulous  sigh.  The  suspiration  was  music  to 
Luk  Chan's  soul.  He  was  content.  His  prayer 
had  been  answered.  Through  all  the  years  to 
come  nothing  would  ever  convince  him  that  she 
had  not  passed  beyond  the  vale,  and  that  his  great 
love  and  his  fervent  prayers  to  his  Joss  were  not 
the  sole  agents  of  her  return. 

He  pressed  his  lips  against  her  ear  and  whis- 
pered her  name.  Again  and  again  he  called  her 

154 


A  RUNNING  FIGHT 

and  at  last  her  subconsciousness  responded  to  the 
potency  of  his  will. 

Her  eyes  opened  once  more  and  this  time  they 
flickered  with  the  light  of  sanity. 

She  looked  at  him  for  what  seemed  aeons  to 
Luk  Chan  and  the  dear  eyes  widened  and 
widened. 

At  last  partial  understanding  came  to  her  and, 
brokenly,  she  breathed  his  name. 

One  of  our  race  would  have  smothered  his 
sweetheart  in  frenzied  caresses,  but  Luk  Chan 
simply  looked  at  her  with  joy-beaming  eyes. 
Slowly  she  lifted  an  arm  and  laid  it  on  his 
shoulder,  drawing  him  close  to  her. 

She  was  so  dazed,  so  stupefied  by  the  poison- 
ous gases  that  had  filled  her  lungs,  that,  beyond 
that  first  happy  murmur,  she  was  content  to  lie 
speechless,  content  to  know  that  the  old  herb-doc- 
tor had  spoken  with  a  false  tongue  and  that  her 
lover  was  restored  to  her. 

A  sharp  crunch  of  broken  glass,  and  Luk  Chan 
turned  his  head  in  alarm.  Standing  just  outside 
her  window  was  Sen  Chee's  father,  stunned,  mo- 
mentarily, by  the  vision  he  beheld. 

But  even  as  the  tong-man  attempted  to  rise 
155 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

Louie  Toy  leaped  upon  him  and  vengeful  fingers 
were  twined  about  his  throat. 

They  struggled  on  the  balcony  floor. 

Luk  Chan  was  the  more  powerful  of  the  two, 
but  he  was  at  a  disadvantage.  The  girl  moaned 
and  tried  to  rise,  but  she  was  too  weak  and  fell 
back  limply  in  her  chair. 

As  her  lover  twisted  his  body  in  an  attempt  to 
shake  off  the  strangling  clutch  he  swung  one 
arm  backward  and  his  fingers  struck  some  cold 
object  on  the  floor.  He  thrilled  with  the  contact 
and  gripped  it  avidly.  It  was  his  revolver,  for- 
gotten since  the  breaking  of  the  window  pane. 

He  caught  the  muzzle  firmly  and  with  a  mighty 
effort  struggled  to  his  feet.  He  swung  it  upward 
in  a  gleaming  half-circle.  Too  late  Louie  Toy 
saw  the  descending  pistol-butt.  With  a  cry  of 
fear  he  tried  to  jerk  his  head  away,  but  it  struck 
him  full  on  the  temple.  His  grip  on  his  enemy's 
throat  relaxed;  he  swayed  for  a  brief  instant,  then 
slipped  in  a  huddled  heap  to  the 'floor. 

Luk  Chan  called  the  Mexican's  name,  but  there 
was  no  answer.  He  called  again  louder.  Still 
there  was  no  reply. 

It  was  no  time  for  indecision.  Bending  over 
156 


A  RUNNING  FIGHT 

the  girl,  he  saw  that  her  eyes  were  open  and  he 
talked  low  to  her  for  a  minute.  She  understood, 
nodded,  and  sighed  in  relief. 

Then  he  stepped  through  the  window  into  her 
room,  turned  off  the  open  cocks,  and  hurried  into 
the  hall. 

He  descended  the  stairway  with  a  stealthy  step 
and  darted  through  her  father's  store,  passing  out 
of  the  door  before  Fong  Toon,  staring  at  him  with 
amazed,  wide-open  eyes,  could  grasp  an  inkling 
of  the  situation. 

Luk  Chan  went  down  the  sidewalk  at  a  rapid 
dog- trot,  turned  up  Clay  and  into  Waverly  Place. 
He  had  gone  about  fifty  yards  along  the  narrow 
alley  when  three  figures  sprang  out  of  the 
shadows  behind  him.  Three  revolvers  barked  and 
three  spits  of  flame  flashed  in  the  darkness.  He 
felt  the  "pi-i-ng"  of  a  bullet  as  it  whizzed  past 
his  cheek,  another  chipped  a  fragment  of  cloth 
from  the  shoulder  of  his  blouse,  and  the  third 
went  wild.  Miraculously  he  had  escaped.  But 
his  shrift  might  be  short. 

He  dived  into  an  open  doorway  and  bounded 
up  the  stairs,  unlimbering  his  revolver  as  he  fled. 
There  were  six  shots  in  the  "automatic"  pistol 

157 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

and  he  would  give  a  good  account  of  himself  be- 
fore they  got  him.  As  he  reached  the  second 
landing  he  heard  the  footfalls  of  his  pursuers  and 
their  guttural  exclamations.  A  head  bobbed  out 
of  a  doorway,  but  bobbed  back  again  in  affright 
when  it  saw  the  grim  highbinder,  revolver  in 
hand. 

He  mounted  to  the  third  floor,  and  running  to 
the  end  of  the  hallway,  found  a  ladder  that  led 
to  the  roof.  Quickly  climbing  it,  he  knocked  off 
the  scuttle  cover,  and  when  he  had  crawled 
through  tried  to  pull  the  ladder  after  him.  But 
it  was  stationary,  so  he  jammed  the  cover  back 
in  place  and  ran  across  the  graveled  roofs,  easily 
leaping  the  narrow  spaces  between  the  buildings. 
A  cry  told  him  that  his  enemies  were  close  be- 
hind. 

He  paused  at  the  edge  of  a  coping  and  his 
heart  missed  a  beat.  There  was  a  light-well  be- 
tween the  two  walls  and  it  was  at  least  ten  feet 
to  the  farther  one,  which  was  a  trifle  lower  than 
the  roof  on  which  he  stood.  He  was  panting  from 
his  exertions,  and  a  miss  meant  instant  death. 

He  could  not  retrace  his  steps  nor  run  to  the 
end  of  the  well.  His  mind  was  made  up  quickly. 

158 


A  RUNNING  FIGHT 

Hurrying  back  a  half-dozen  paces,  he  drew  a  deep 
breath,  then  bounded  forward,  sprang  on  to  the 
coping,  and  launched  himself  into  space. 

Fortune  favored  him  and  he  struck  the  roof- 
edge,  but  stumbled  and  sprawled  forward  on  his 
face.  A  bullet  threw  up  the  gravel  close  to  his 
head,  and  he  scrambled  on  hands  and  knees  to 
the  shelter  of  a  brick  chimney  just  beyond  him. 
Dodging  behind  it,  he  took  a  pot-shot  at  his  fore- 
most pursuer  and  smiled  grimly  as  the  tong-man 
threw  up  his  hands  and  tottered  backward. 

He  waited,  thankful  for  the  breathing  spell, 
but  his  enemies  were  wary,  and  though  he  peered 
cautiously  around  the  chimney  edge,  he  could  see 
no  further  sign  of  them. 

Then  another  fear  possessed  him.  Perhaps 
they  would  descend  to  the  street  and  enter  the 
building  he  was  hiding  on.  It  was  on  a  corner 
and  he  could  not  leap  back  across  the  opening. 
He  would  be  caught.  There  was  but  one  chance 
of  escape.  He  must  beat  them  to  the  street. 

He  crawled  on  his  stomach,  expecting  momen- 
tarily to  be  shot,  to  a  glass  skylight  in  the  center 
of  the  roof.  It  was  fastened  inside,  but  it  was 
the  work  of  an  instant  to  break  a  pane  with  his 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

revolver,  and  he  shot  the  bolt.  He  threw  it  up, 
slid  down  the  ladder,  and  fortunately  found  him- 
self in  a  hall,  at  the  head  of  a  narrow  stairway 
where  a  gas-jet  was  burning. 

He  leaped  down  the  strairs,  three  at  a  time,  and, 
after  the  second  turning,  landed  at  the  street  door. 
Hiding  his  pistol  in  his  sleeve,  he  slipped  out  into 
the  alley  just  in  time  to  see  the  back  of  a  police- 
man, revolver  in  hand,  whistle  shrilling  at  lips, 
racing  down  Waverly  Place  while  dozens  of 
wildly  excited  Celestials  dived  through  their 
doors,  closing  them  and  drawing  their  shades, 
fearful  of  flying  bullets. 

He  walked  slowly  around  the  corner,  pulled 
his  hat  over  his  eyes,  and  strode  up  Dupont  street 
to  California.  Diving  into  the  alley  half-way 
down  the  block,  he  entered  the  joss-house  back  of 
Louie  Toy's  store.  Here  he  might  have  time  to 
think,  to  form  some  plan  of  escape  from  the  ven- 
geance of  Ming  Tai. 

Lucero's  warning  had  not  been  groundless. 

The  plot  was  carefully  contrived.  His  life 
had  been  saved  by  a  miracle.  His  confidence 
returned  as  he  climbed  the  stairs, — but  he  held 
the  shrewdness  of  his  enemies  too  lightly.  As  he 

160 


A  RUNNING  FIGHT 

reached  the  first  landing  a  slouching  figure  slipped 
into  the  doorway  and  stole  after  him  on  felt-shod, 
noiseless  feet. 

At  the  second  floor  he  entered  the  swinging 
doors  that  led  into  the  ceremonial  room  of  the 
joss. 

He  crossed  the  polished  floor  and  had  traversed 
about  two-thirds  of  the  distance  to  the  altar,  when 
the  door  swung  open  again,  a  somber  figure  stood 
on  the  threshold,  and  leveled  a  revolver  at  his 
retreating  back. 

But  the  shot  was  never  fired. 

There  was  a  light,  swishing  sound,  a  gleam  of 
flashing  metal,  and  the  assassin  pitched  forward 
on  his  face.  The  handle  of  a  stiletto  protruded 
beneath  his  shoulder,  and  Juan  Lucero,  stepping 
out  of  the  hallway,  leaned  over  him  and  drew 
out  the  blade,  wiping  it  nonchalantly  on  his  un- 
conscious victim's  blouse. 

Luk  Chan,  startled  by  the  noise,  turned,  re- 
volver in  hand,  and  read  the  story  of  his  escape 
in  Lucero's  attitude. 

Slipping  his  knife  into  his  girdle,  the  Mexican 
spoke:  "I  come  in  just  the  nick  of  time;  si.  I 
watch  from  the  roof.  I  see  the  malo  hombre  fol- 

161 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

low  queeck  behind  you.  I  run  to  the  front. 
You  come  in  the  door.  He  come  in,  too.  Then, 
dio  carno!  I  rush  down  the  stairs  like  I  am 
mad.  I  get  here  just  in  time.  What  you  think, 
amigo?" 

"There  is  a  blood-bond  of  friendship  between 
us,"  muttered  the  tong-man  fervently.  "Luk 
Chan  will  not  forget." 

"No,  no.  Must  not  talk  now.  Must  hide 
Chinese  man.  Then  Luk  Chan  must  hide  too." 

"No,  I  will  go  to  the  street.  Others  may  fol- 
low." 

"Please,  please  must  not  go.  See  unos,  dos, 
half-dozen  Chinese  men  and  three,  four  policemen 
too,  all  on  street.  They  look  for  some  one.  Must 
hide  in  here." 

Luk  Chan  shrugged  his  shoulders,  then  stooped 
over  and  caught  the  limp  body  beneath  its  arms 
and  dragged  it  to  the  end  of  the  hall.  Opening 
a  little  closet,  he  thrust  it  inside,  and  Lucero 
threw  the  hat  and  pistol  after  it. 

"He  not  need  hees  gun  now,"  he  said  drily,  as 
the  Chinaman  closed  the  door.  Then  they  hur- 
ried back  to  the  altar- room. 

At  one  side  of  it,  running  nearly  ninety  feet 
162 


A  RUNNING  FIGHT 

along  its  wall,  was  the  great  gilded  Dragon  used 
in  ceremonial  parades  and  at  the  celebration  of 
the  festivities  of  the  Chinese  New  Year. 

In  the  Portola  procession,  the  year  before,  the 
Chinese  division  had  been  awarded  the  first  prize, 
and  its  most  spectacular  feature  had  been  the 
Dragon.  Twenty  Celestials  had  borne  it  on  their 
shoulders,  with  only  their  slippered  feet  showing 
beneath  its  green-scaled,  glittering  sides.  Two 
men  inside  the  gigantic  head  had  pranced  a  zig- 
zag course  along  the  streets,  and  the  lithe  body 
had  responded  with  serpentine  undulations  that 
were  singularly  effective. 

A  thought  struck  Juan  Lucero  as  he  looked  at 
the  Dragon.  He  hurried  across  the  room  and 
laid  his  hand  against  its  head.  It  was  at  least 
eight  feet  high  and  nearly  five  feet  in  diameter, 
constructed  of  papier  macJie^  and  extremely  light 
in  consequence. 

A  red  and  curling  tongue  protruded  through 
gleaming  teeth.  Great,  staring  eyeballs  turned 
upward,  and  the  creature  seemed  to  grin  at  him, 
— a  golden  grin  of  fascinating  hideousness. 

He  placed  his  fingers  beneath  its  lower  jaw 
and  lifted  it,  turning  it  partly  over  on  its  side, 

163 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

while  the  green  scales  of  the  body  crinkled  rus- 
tlingly  in  response. 

The  shrill  rattle  of  a  police  whistle  was  borne 
to  them  through  an  open  window. 

"Queeck,"  he  commanded,  and  pointed  to  the 
opening. 

With  swift  understanding,  Luk  Chan  dropped 
to  his  knees  and  crawled  inside  the  head. 

Lucero  let  it  fall  back  to  its  original  position 
and  stole  silently  from  the  room. 


164 


CHAPTER  X 


DETECTIVE  SERGEANT  BRAY,  Officer 
Mulcahey,  and  a  squad  of  policemen  turned 
all  the  tong  headquarters  and  every  joss-house  and 
Chinese  gambling-den  in  San  Francisco  topsy- 
turvy in  an  attempt  to  get  on  the  trail  of  the  war- 
ring hatchet-men.  But  their  efforts  were  fruit- 
less. The  wily  Mongols  that  they  questioned 
either  could  not  "sabee,"  or  professed  ignorance. 
Though  several  arrests  were  made,  not  one  of  the 
suspects  could  be  identified  as  an  offending  high- 
binder. Several  Hop  Sing  men  and  also  several 
Bo  Sing  men  were  put  through  a  form  of  the 
third  degree  at  headquarters  while  the  officers  con- 
tinued their  search,  but  they  were  as  inscrutable 
as  their  wooden  joss. 

Strange  to  say,  Ming  Tai,  in  a  secret  interview 
with  Bray,  did  not  mention  Luk  Chan's  name. 
His  enemy  had  disappeared  from  his  usual 

165 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

haunts.  The  old  fish  dealer's  hired  murderers 
had  reported  to  him.  One  of  them  was  wounded 
and  was  secreted  in  a  basement  back  of  a  clam- 
depot.  They  thought  that  a  bullet  had  found 
lodging  in  the  Bo  Sing  man's  body,  but  they 
were  not  sure. 

Ming  had  told  the  detective  on  a  former  occa- 
sion that  Luk  Chan  belonged  to  the  Hop  Sings, 
and  now  he  was  between  two  fires;  so  he  kept 
a  still  tongue  beyond  trying  to  convey  the  im- 
pression that  the  fight  was  the  result  of  some 
private  grudge,  and  not  an  affair  of  the  tongs. 

When  they  searched  the  joss-house  the  body  of 
Lucero's  victim  was  found  huddled  in  the  closet 
where  Luk  Chan  had  hidden  him.  A  revolver 
lay  by  his  side,  but  none  of  its  chambers  were 
empty,  and  when  they  dragged  him  out  into  the 
light  they  discovered  the  knife-thrust  beneath  his 
shoulder,  but  there  was  no  evidence  on  which  to 
hang  a  clue  save  the  fact  that  he  was  recognized 
as  a  Hop  Sing  man. 

While  Bray  and  the  two  policemen  were  go- 
ing through  his  clothes,  Officer  Mulcahey  did  a 
little  investigating  on  his  own  account.  The  big 
Dragon,  stretched  snakily  along  the  side  of  the 

166 


THE  DRAGON'S  HEAD 

room,  fascinated  him.  He  prodded  its  scaly  sides 
with  his  club,  lifted  up  an  edge  here  and  there, 
and  peered  beneath  it.  A  fancy  had  struck  him : 
perhaps  some  highbinder  was  hidden  there,  wait- 
ing an  opportunity  to  get  another  victim,  as  he 
came  to  his  devotions. 

He  gave  it  up  at  last  and  was  about  to  turn 
away  when  the  gilded  head  attracted  him!  He 
tapped  it  with  his  stick.  There  was  a  hollow 
sound,  and  he  grunted.  He  might  as  well  have 
one  last  look,  then  he  would  be  satisfied. 

He  stooped  and  squinted  through  the  half-open 
mouth,  shading  his  eyes  with  both  hands. 

Suddenly  he  realized  that  two  luminous  orbs 
were  burning  back  into  his  own  with  an  ominous 
gleam. 

He  caught  his  breath  and  his  lips  opened  to 
call  out  to  his  comrades  when  a  sibilant  phrase 
held  him. 

"My  God,  Luk  Chan!"  he  muttered,  and 
darted  a  swift  glance  in  Bray's  direction. 

But  the  detective  was  busy  with  his  search,  and 
"Mul"  pressed  his  lips  close  to  the  opening. 

A  whispered  query,  a  quick  answer,  a  muttered 
assent,  and  he  straightened,  joining  his  comrades, 

167 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

with  the  suggestion  that  they  ring  up  the  morgue 
and  not  "be  wastin'  no  more  time  in  these  dig- 
gin's." 

They  left  an  officer  in  charge  of  the  body,  and 
within  fifteen  minutes  the  morgue  wagon  clat- 
tered up  to  the  joss-house  and  the  policeman  and 
his  "evidence"  were  taken  away. 

When  the  coast  was  clear  Juan  Lucero  slunk 
into  the  entrance  and  darted  up  the  stairs. 

A  hurried  visit  to  the  Dragon's  head  assured 
him  of  Luk  Chan's  safety,  and  they  had  a  long 
conference.  At  last  they  came  to  an  understand- 
ing and  he  left  the  building. 

Just  as  he  slipped  through  the  door  he  saw 
Ming  Tai,  half-way  down  the  block,  headed  in 
his  direction.  A  thought  struck  him,  and  he 
smiled.  Fumbling  beneath  his  blouse,  his  fingers 
touched  a  familiar  object.  With  a  murmur  of 
satisfaction,  he  drew  back  into  the  shadow,  and 
as  the  old  tong-man  passed  him  he  sprang  out  and 
thrust  something  into  his  palm. 

Ming  Tai  leaped  back,  startled,  and  turned  to 
stare  at  the  fleeting  form.  A  gust  of  wind  caught 
the  boy's  hat  and  whisked  it  from  his  head.  He 

168 


THE  DRAGON'S  HEAD 

recovered  it  quickly,  but  the  damage  was  done. 
Ming  had  recognized  him. 

He  was  gone  in  an  instant,  and  again  horror 
seized  the  fish  dealer  as  he  gazed  at  the  object 
in  his  hand.  Again  the  little  white  disk.  Again 
the  tiger-cat.  He  had  been  frightened  before, 
but  this  time  terror  struck  him  to  the  very  marrow. 
His  knees  shook.  He  clutched  his  bosom  and 
leaned  against  the  wall.  Slowly  he  recovered 
his  faculties,  but  he  did  not  regain  his  mental 
poise. 

What  did  it  mean? 

He  had  thought  all  along  that  it  was  the  warn- 
ing of  some  tong  enemy,  but  the  peccant  wind  had 
thrown  a  new  light  on  the  subject. 

The  Hop  Sing  man,  his  tool,  had  been  killed 
by  a  dagger  thrust. 

Ah !  He  had  it  now !  The  Mexican  was  the 
knife-thrower  who  had  been  concealed  in  Louie 
Toy's  cellars.  He  had  killed  the  hatchet-man. 
There  were  others  implicated  in  the  battle  besides 
people  of  his  own  race. 

He  shivered.  Would  he  be  the  next  victim  of 
Lucero's  deadly  skill? 

169 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

In  Louie  Toy's  cellars!  In  Louie  Toy's  cel- 
lars!! 

By  the  sacred  bones  of  his  ancestors,  he  had  it 
now !  Yes,  he  had  it  now !  He  had  solved  the 
riddle. 

What  a  fool  he  had  been! 

Louie  Toy,  masking  as  his  friend,  had  been  his 
enemy  and  was  seeking  to  destroy  him.  The 
Mexican,  in  gratitude  for  Louie's  protection,  had 
become  his  tool.  And  they  had  used  this  method 
to  unnerve  him,  to  mislead  him,  to  throw  him  off 
the  track  until  they  were  ready  to  make  an  end  of 
him.  He  was  crafty;  he  knew  the  tong-men's 
ways;  he  had  had  an  intimate  acquaintance  with 
barking  pistols  in  the  past,  but  had  passed  un- 
scathed through  more  than  one  desperate  battle. 
He  must  not  permit  himself  to  quail  now. 

But  this  silent  whizzing  messenger  of  destruc- 
tion! There  was  no  escape.  The  dead  Hop 
Sing  fighting  man  was  sufficient  evidence  of  that. 

Even  now  he  felt  the  shadow  of  death  upon 
him  and  clutched  at  the  wall.  He  had  intended 
to  visit  the  joss-house,  but  he  changed  his  mind. 
His  devotions  could  wait. 

Louie  Toy  meant  business.  Louie  had  far 
170 


THE  DRAGON'S  HEAD 

more  wisdom  than  he  had  given  him  credit  for. 
And  the  Mexican  was  becoming  bolder. 

A  fateful  chip  had  been  deposited  in  his  till, 
another  had  come  to  light  under  the  bean- jar's 
cover  in  his  gambling-house,  a  third  had  been  con- 
cealed in  his  hat,  but  this  last  one  had  been  de- 
livered in  person.  It  could  mean  only  one  thing : 
Sen  Chee's  father  was  ready  for  action.  His  time 
was  short.  How  crafty  the  merchant  was.  He 
had  determined  to  rid  himself  of  two  undesir- 
able sons-in-law  and  was  playing  him  against  the 
more  dangerous  one.  His  turn  would  come  as 
soon  as  he  had  disposed  of  Luk  Chan. 

Action  was  imperative. 

He  must  take  the  affair  in  his  own  hands; 
there  was  no  one  he  could  trust.  Louie  Toy 
must  die  before  another  day  had  gone.  There 
must  be  no  doubt  of  that. 

Peering  furtively  about  him,  he  hurled  the 
poker  chip  into  the  street,  turned  down  his  hat 
brim,  tucked  his  hands  into  sleeves  crossed  on  his 
bosom,  and  hurried  back  to  his  store. 

The  joss-house  was  the  scene  of  many  curious 
comings  and  goings.  It  was  deserted  through- 

171 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

out  the  balance  of  the  night,  and  the  old  Dragon 
guarded  its  tenant  safely. 

But  the  morning  was  still  gray  when  Officer 
Mulcahey  mounted  the  stairs.  He  had  business 
with  Luk  Chan. 

He  lifted  the  head  and  the  tong-man  crawled 
out.  They  held  a  somewhat  heated  argument  and 
at  last  the  policeman  gave  in. 

Sen  Chee's  lover  handed  him  a  package  of 
bills.  "There  are  five  hundred  dollars,"  he  said. 
"It  is  more  than  you  need,  much  more.  Send 
some  one  you  can  trust  to  the  steamship  com- 
pany's office,  and  see  that  your  errand  is  done 
by  noon.  Visit  me  before  you  go  on  duty,  and 
keep  the  balance  as  your  reward.  I  think,  under 
the  conditions,  I  can  trust  you.  But  the  way 
must  be  clear." 

Mulcahey  looked  at  him  for  a  moment,  then 
stretched  out  his  hand. 

"Say,  you're  white,  all  right,"  he  mumbled. 
"Leave  it  to  me.  I'll  be  on  the  job.  I've  got 
a  pull  with  them  people  anyway." 

Luk  Chan's  nostrils  dilated,  he  hesitated,  pride 
almost  mastered  him.  Then  he  thought  better  of 
it  and  caught  the  proffered  hand  in  a  hasty  grip. 

172 


THE  DRAGON'S  HEAD 

San  Francisco's  Celestial  quarter  was  draped  in 
twilight  when  Juan  Lucero  helped  a  timid  Chi- 
nese maid  to  climb  the  ladder  that  led,  through  a 
scuttle,  to  the  joss-house  roof.  He  waited  by  the 
opening,  while  she  hurried  forward  to  join  a 
shadowy  form  that  stood  near  the  coping.  Juan's 
fingers  toyed  with  the  pearl  handle  of  a  stiletto, 
and  he  smiled  as  he  thought  of  his  last  glimpse  of 
Ming  Tai  and  the  ashen  pallor  of  his  face. 

Luk  Chan  drew  Sen  Chee  to  him,  clasping  both 
her  hands  in  his  and  holding  her  close  to  his 
bosom  as  he  looked  into  her  dear,  uplifted  eyes. 

He  murmured  low  words  of  affection  and  she 
sighed  in  happiness,  drooping  her  head  upon  his 
shoulder. 

"Oh,  my  beloved,  you  have  come  back  to  me 
from  the  borders  of  the  eternal  vale.  The  lily 
blossom  saved  our  lives, — yes,  both  our  lives, 
Sen  Chee, — for  its  scent  called  me  to  you." 

"Both  our  lives,  Luk  Chan?' 

"Yes;  for  my  soul  would  have  sought  yours 
in  the  Vale  of  the  Thousand  Years." 

"You  do  not  mean — " 

"Life  would  not  be  worth  the  living  with- 
out you."  He  smiled.  "And  I  would  have 

173 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

cheated  my  enemies.  There  is  a  price  upon  my 
head.  Ming  Tai  has  planned  to  have  me  killed." 

She  started. 

"Ming  Tai !     Then  you  know — " 

"I  know  nothing  save  that  he  is  my  enemy  and 
that  I  escaped  his  vengeance  by  a  miracle." 

She  did  not  seem  to  hear.  She  was  staring 
wide-eyed  into  vacancy.  She  thought  of  a  con- 
versation she  had  overheard  one  day  from  her  bal- 
cony. 

A  tremor  ran  through  her  form  and  Luk  Chan's 
arms  tightened  about  her.  But  she  pressed  her 
hands  against  his  bosom  and  thrust  him  away. 

"But  my  father;  my  father!"  she  cried. 
"Surely  you  cannot  love  me  when  my  father's 
hand  is  against  you." 

He  misread  her  meaning. 

"It  was  but  natural.  I  am  sorry  that  I  had  to 
strike,  but  it  was  the  only  way.  He  discovered 
us  together  on  your  balcony — " 

"O — o — oh !"  She  threw  herself  into  his  arms 
and  rested  there  content  as  he  bent  over  her.  An 
awful  weight  had  been  lifted.  Luk  Chan  did 
not  know  that  her  father  had  plotted  with  Ming 
Tai.  That  last  innocent  answer  of  his  was  a 

174 


THE  DRAGON'S  HEAD 

portent  of  the  future.  Now  she  would  do  any- 
thing that  he  might  ask  of  her.  She  would  fly 
with  him  to  the  remotest  corner  of  the  earth,  if 
he  commanded  it,  and  give  up,  for  him,  all  living 
ties.  He  would  not  hate  her  now.  He  would 
never  know  that  her  father  had  planned  his  mur- 
der, and  that,  faltering  between  love  and  duty, 
she  had  risked  her  lover's  life  and  held  her 
tongue. 

As  if  in  answer  to  her  thoughts,  he  spoke: 

"Sen  Chee,  the  time  has  come.  If  I  would 
live,  I  must  find  safety  in  flight.  Will  you  go 
with  me  wherever  I  may  go?  'Wherever  you  go, 
I  will  go,  Luk  Chan,'  you  said,  that  scented  night 
upon  your  balcony.  You  must  choose  between 
your  father  and  Luk  Chan.  Look  deep  into  your 
heart,  little  Lily  Flower;  your  future  hangs  on 
but  a  single  word.  If  you  give  yourself  to  me, 
you  will  never  cross  your  father's  threshold  again. 
Will  you  trust  your  heart  to  my  keeping?  Will 
you  come  to  me now?" 

She  nestled  closer  to  him,  and  bending  over 
her,  he  read  his  answer  and  his  happiness  in  her 
eyes. 

He  was  silent  for  a  time.  The  moment  was 
175 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

too  precious  for  words.     But  every  instant  held 
danger. 

"I  will  hide  you  in  the  Dragon's  head,"  he  said 
at  last.  "The  old  Dragon  has  been  a  goo3  friend 
to  Luk  Chan,  and  he  will  hold  safe  guard  over 
Sen  Ghee  till  her  lover  comes  for  her.  The  time 
will  not  be  long.  You  have  lost  your  father,  Lily 
Flower,  but  you  will  be  the  Dragon's  Daughter 
to-night.  Let  us  go  to  him." 

When  he  had  stowed  her  in  her  hiding-place, 
Luk  Chan  sent  Lucero  back  to  the  roof,  and  left 
the  joss-house. 

He  had  a  mission  to  perform. 

His  blood-oath  must  be  fulfilled. 

His  conscience  was  sorely  troubled. 

He  had  registered  a  secret  vow  to  kill  Louie 
Toy.  Sen  Chee  would  never  know.  The  news 
would  be  kept  from  her,  and  his  duty  to  his  tong 
would  end.  If  he  fled  with  clean  hands  he  would 
be  branded  a  coward,  his  memory  would  be 
reviled,  his  tong  brothers  would  call  down  the 
curse  of  his  ancestors  upon  him  through  the  ages 
and  his  soul  would  never  be  purged  of  torment, 
— torment  eternal. 


THE  DRAGON'S  HEAD 

His  point  of  view  seems  monstrous. 

But  Luk  Chan  was  a  highbinder,  a  fighting 
tong-man,  with  all  the  traditions  of  his  race,  and 
to  even  the  most  peaceful  Celestial  the  breaking 
of  an  oath  is  an  unpardonable  sin, — not  oaths 
taken  in  the  courts  of  the  White  Devils,  meaning- 
less words  jumbled  together  and  administered  by 
bull-necked,  bulldozing  policemen  who  had  no 
respect  themselves  for  the  sentences  they 
mouthed,  but  oaths  taken  before  their  josses,  with 
all  the  impressive  rites  of  their  religion.  Such 
an  oath  could  not  be  broken. 

Louie  Toy,  with  mandarin  cap  settled  back  on 
his  head  and  a  long  strip  of  plaster  on  his  temple, 
stood  in  the  doorway  of  the  Canton  Bazaar,  hands 
thrust  in  sleeves,  puffing  lazily  at  his  pipe,  out- 
wardly content  with  the  world,  but  nursing  an  in- 
ward turbulence. 

Luk  Chan  slipped  along  the  wall.  His  hand 
clutched  the  butt  of  a  revolver  held  against  his 
bosom  beneath  his  loosened  blouse.  It  would  be 
but  the  work  of  a  moment  to  whip  it  out,  and 
then — ! 

He  worked  his  way  cautiously  along  the  side- 
walk. Nearly  all  the  stores  were  closed  by  this 

177 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

time,  and  the  street  was  deserted.  He  dodged 
from  one  doorway  to  another,  and  Louie  Toy 
never  once  scented  danger.  Something  attracted 
the  merchant's  attention,  down  the  block,  and 
with  a  desperate  leap  Luk  Chan  gained  the  shelter 
of  the  dark  entrance  next  to  the  Canton  Bazaar. 
He  was  not  a  dozen  feet  away  from  his  victim 
and  the  rest  would  be  easy. 

He  raised  his  revolver,  sighted  it,  and  his  finger 
quivered  on  the  trigger;  but  the  image  of  Sen 
Chee  dimmed  his  eyes.  Strange!  Her  father's 
form  was  plain  enough  until  he  aimed  the  pistol, 
then  he  seemed  to  be  pointing  it  directly  at  the 
body  of  his  sweetheart. 

He  lowered  the  gun,  thought  of  his  blood- 
oath,  and  raised  it  again.  But  it  was  no  use. 
He  was  aiming  at  the  heart  of  Sen  Chee.  He 
was  a  coward!  He  drew  back  and  hugged  his 
dark  corner  for  a  while.  At  last  he  peered  around 
the  edge  of  the  door;  then, — then  he  saw  Ming 
Tai  slouching  along  the  sidewalk,  a  bland  smile 
on  his  face  as  he  spied  the  merchant  in  front  of 
his  store.  Two  familiar  figures  rounded  the  cor- 
ner a  half  a  block  in  his  rear. 

Within  ten  paces  of  the  bazaar,  Ming's  face 
178 


THE  DRAGON'S  HEAD 

suddenly  changed,  and  whipping  out  a  gun,  he 
fired  two  shots  in  rapid  succession. 

Louie  Toy  crumpled  up  on  his  threshold  and 
his  assailant  turned  and  ran — ran  right  into  the 
arms  of  Detective  Bray  and  Officer  Mulcahey. 
He  fought  like  a  tiger,  but  they  were  too  strong 
for  him.  Mulcahey  twisted  the  smoking  "auto- 
matic" pistol  from  his  hand  and  in  a  jiffy  a  pair 
of  handcuffs  were  snapped  about  his  wrists. 

"You'll  swing  for  this,  Ming,"  said  Bray. 
gruffly.  "We've  got  the  goods  on  you." 

Officer  Mulcahey  ran  to  the  doorway,  thrust 
aside  Fong  Toon  and  his  squealing  companions, 
and  dropped  to  his  knees  by  the  side  of  Louie 
Toy.  He  turned  him  over  on  his  back,  tore  open 
his  blouse,  and  laid  his  ear  close  to  his  bosom. 

A  half -minute  passed,  then  he  rose. 

"Dead  as  a  mackerel,"  he  said,  slapping  the 
dust  from  his  knees. 

Shortly  after  noon  of  the  following  day  the 
Korea  steamed  majestically  through  the  Golden 
Gate. 

Unnoticed  amongst  the  scores  of  Orientals  in 
her  steerage,  a  little  Chinese  maid  clung  timor- 

179 


THE  DRAGON'S  DAUGHTER 

ously  to  the  arm  of  a  grim-visaged  tong-man. 

She  murmured  a  low  word  and  a  glow  of 
tenderness  softened  his  eyes  as  he  turned  them  on 
her. 

Luk  Chan  and  his  Lily  Flower  were  bound  for 
the  land  of  their  ancestors, — the  lotus  land  be- 
yond the  seas,  where  their  heritage  of  love 
awaited  them. 


THE  END 


180 


LOAN  PERIOD  1 
HOME  USE 

4" 


j^E  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 

MAR_n 

gg, CPU.  MAY  21 


"UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERKELEY 

FORM  NO.  DD6,  60m,  12/80        BERKELEY,  CA  94720 


69822 


U.C.BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


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